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magharabiFlying out to DC- it was like sitting in an undersized cardboard box with the top shut and taped. Srsly. We came out of the planes gasping for air.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Husby had an early shift the day before we left, and he wanted all of the laundry and all of the dishes done before we left so that our house seemed at least sort of clean. Well, that really didn't happen. Mostly because I kept getting sidetracked to other projects or sick. Suffice it to say, I just did not feel good. It got better after the trip to the OB since at least the heartburn went away, but MAN, was I feeling pregnant and peeing every two minutes I swear. Anyway, because Husby had an early shift on Thursday, it meant our vacation actually started about 4 pm that day. And he came home and was just PUMPED or something idk. But we got through a couple loads of laundry (whites and colors >.>) and we got packed together. I had at least had the presence of mind to make a detailed list of what we'd need for the next week and a half, so that helped him be able to take a lot of initiative, instead of having to wait on me: the chronic procrastinating packer. Really, I HATE packing, and always leave it to the last minute. I don't know why. It was awesome to have it done the day before we were leaving, and made departure day just so much less stressful.
We participate in a local produce buying co-op called Bountiful Baskets (if you live in the midwest states, omg click the link!) which gets us a bushel of fresh produce for super cheap every week. It's a MUST for anyone on a budget. We pick up the produce at the crack of dawn on Saturdays, and work what we got into our weekly menu so that we waste as little as possible. Since there's only two of us, sometimes that takes some effort, and sometimes we get like, a TON of one thing or another and it builds up from previous weeks. So. Before we left we had a ton of mangoes that just weren't quite ripe yet (another two days and they would have been perfect, alas! I love mangoes) and loads of other produce that wouldn't keep until we got back. So we gave some to Alley on Tuesday, then on Friday before we left, since we were already packed and the car was loaded, we took the rest of what we had up to a girl I met at church who has two kids, a deadbeat husband who she's currently trying to divorce, and gets all of her income from babysitting. Right as we were leaving, I went to put on my sneakers, knowing that there would be a lot of walking through the airport and stuff like that.
Well. The sneakers didn't fit. I mean, I could shove my feet in them with the laces completely undone and loosened, sure. But it was uncomfortable, what with my toes all smooshed together and the shoes themselves even without the laces pushing in on all sides. I pulled my foot out, it looked normal, then tried again. Definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. Haha! Yeah, they just did not fit, even from heel to toe was too small. o.0
Yep. Little known side effect of pregnancy. Sometimes, your feet grow. Literally. It's possible I'll need a size bigger shoe for the rest of my life, depending on how much I grew, though most women end up in a half size bigger shoe. I hope I get to wear my wedding sandals again some day- they were expensive, and the most comfortable pair of dress shoes I've ever owned. (Girls who plan on getting married someday: DO NOT skimp on wedding shoes. Find the most comfortable pair you can get and don't even think about the cost of them TRUST ME YOU'LL THANK ME you can cut costs somewhere else. >.>) Anyway. Husby took it pretty well. He'd somehow heard about the growing feet thing and fully expected to have to buy me a new pair of shoes. So we went to a shoe store on our way to the airport and I got a pair of sneakers that was comfortable. I fretted about it, though. I get buyer's remorse really easily- especially when I know a lot of big expenses are coming up (like paying to park our car for 11 days, rent, and baggage fees :|) but after just one day in them, I was SO glad we got them. My feet BALLOONED on the way out.
Yes, when I got on the plane, I had normal ankles. Probably not very attractive ones since I'm incredibly overweight, but I've not yet hit cankles territory, so I at least have ankles. Normally. One day later, man, cankles would have been nice. I didn't have cankles. Or ankles. I had freaking grapefruits. If I had tried to just power through in my old sneakers, I don't think I would have made it. As it was, I started to worry if maybe I shouldn't have gotten the next half size bigger, because my ankles were like, hanging over the sides of my shoes and the tops of my feet were getting swollen and I had to really loosen the laces to make them fit. Thing is, from heel to toe fit perfectly, so. At least that part hadn't blown up.
Our first flight, from Salt Lake to Denver, was pretty ok. The airlines were running really well that day and people were being orderly and cooperative, making for super fast turnaround times. I realized when we got about halfway to the airport that I'd forgotten to grab a book from home to read. So Husby, being the absolute darling that he is (and blowing the top off of my buyer's remorse syndrome yet again) said, "Well, they have bookstores in the airport, right? We'll be there a little early so we'll get you something there." I wanted to cry, and yet I was excited at the prospect of a new book. I still haven't managed to get my sorry behind to the library, so I've been craving something new for awhile. I'm so glad I asked my f-list for recs, though, as it made choosing a new book a lot easier. I knew some good titles to look for, and knew something about them. In the end, we got something that both Husby and I would like, a book called "Way of Kings" by Brandon Sanderson. He's the guy who is finishing up the Wheel Of Time series for Robert Jordan. He's also a local, so we scored an autographed copy, since he'd been there in the bookstore a few days earlier. We met him at a writing convention and got one of his kids' books, "Alcatraz versus the Evil Librarians" signed right in front of us, so we knew what his signature looks like. It was legit. I was excited. A new book to share, and I would get to read it first. Honestly, we'd never gotten through Alcatraz, because we packed it up for the move before we got done reading it and we haven't been able to find it again yet. Anyway. So, "Way of Kings" in hand, backpacks hoisted, we tromped off to our gate to board the plane.
Did I mention I was peeing every three minutes? Because yeah. Nothing is longer than a plane ride when you have to pee. For whatever reason, there was a steady stream of people in the bathroom from SLC to Denver. I didn't think I was all that claustrophobic. But the people, the nonexistent air flow, and the spiffy little pee dance I was doing really added up to an hour and a half of airborn hell. Not to mention, Doc gave me specific instructions to drink TONS of water. Which would keep me from getting a blood clot and swelling up worse (if that's even possible), but also make me have to PEE!!!! I love my husby, he's so supportive and cares about my health and that of our dear little Morphberry. He made me drink as much as I could handle before finally I almost yelled at him that I am NOT drinking any more water until I can get into that occupied bathroom, thank you very much!!!! Just as the bathroom suddenly, magically became unoccupied, the fasten seatbelt sign came on because of turbulence, and then our descent.
Husby hurried me to a bathroom at the Denver airport.
We had a couple hours of layover in Denver, which was great because we were both starving, and I needed to move around. We took the shuttles between all of the concourses, looking for something to eat (I was in a first trimester mood- nothing looked good. But that's because it was all fast food, and I wanted something healthy), and then we just walked around a bit to get my blood flowing and help stave off any clots. Pregnant women are prone to clotting if they don't move around enough. And I was fidgety anyway. But also exhausted. I hate it when I can't make up my mind about what state I want to be in. When we were walking, I just needed to sit down. Once we got sat down, man, I couldn't sit I just needed to get up and move around a little. I have never been so blasted anxious in an airport before, and it wore on me. Wore on Husby, too, since he didn't know what to do or how to help, other than keep encouraging me to drink water to stay hydrated. Oh yeah, another fun fact about flying pregnant, particularly in the second trimester: if you get too dehydrated, you can put yourself into early labor, even if the baby isn't ready to come yet. I think it has to do with like, the changing altitudes and the pressurization and well, not drinking enough. Anyway. Every little twinge I had was nerve wracking for both of us.
Denver to DC flight made Salt Lake to Denver seem like a walk in the park. We were on a bigger plane, thankfully, but we ended up in a row of three- and the third was this weird old guy who I'm guessing also had circulation issues, because he didn't sit at all the entire way unless the fasten seatbelt light was turned on. It sort of creeped us out. What upset me, though, is that when I did finally have it and got up to go to the bathroom and stretch my legs, the flight attendants glared at me like I was being rude and inconsiderate- even though Creepo-man had been up and in the aisleway the whole time! I at least went to the back of the cabin and stretched out there, where I wasn't putting my butt into the person on the other side of the aisle's face. I had to undo my bra in the bathroom for a few minutes, because I simply could not breathe in that airplane. Husby and I both had our little air spouts up to full and there just wasn't any sort of flow coming out of them. I was alternately feeling light-headed, short of breath, and queezy the whole time.
Longest. Flight. Ever.
We got in to BWI at 1 am. Husby's brother was there waiting for us, thank heavens, and took us to his house 15 mins away, rather than making Husby's parents come get us and drive us back to Virginia, an hour and a half away. Bug (Brother's nickname in High School) had two extra beds in his oldest daughter's bedroom all made up for us- one with a bazillion pillows of varying sizes and levels of firmness Wife Bug had made up just for me. I was so relieved and tired and just ready to curl up into anything. Unfortunately, both of the beds were twin sized, so Husby and I couldn't curl up together, which actually was really hard. We were so exhausted, yet neither of us could sleep until I went and snuggled against him anyway. Once he finally fell asleep, I crawled back into my pillow-laden rectangle of unconscious bliss and passed out.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Husby had an early shift the day before we left, and he wanted all of the laundry and all of the dishes done before we left so that our house seemed at least sort of clean. Well, that really didn't happen. Mostly because I kept getting sidetracked to other projects or sick. Suffice it to say, I just did not feel good. It got better after the trip to the OB since at least the heartburn went away, but MAN, was I feeling pregnant and peeing every two minutes I swear. Anyway, because Husby had an early shift on Thursday, it meant our vacation actually started about 4 pm that day. And he came home and was just PUMPED or something idk. But we got through a couple loads of laundry (whites and colors >.>) and we got packed together. I had at least had the presence of mind to make a detailed list of what we'd need for the next week and a half, so that helped him be able to take a lot of initiative, instead of having to wait on me: the chronic procrastinating packer. Really, I HATE packing, and always leave it to the last minute. I don't know why. It was awesome to have it done the day before we were leaving, and made departure day just so much less stressful.
We participate in a local produce buying co-op called Bountiful Baskets (if you live in the midwest states, omg click the link!) which gets us a bushel of fresh produce for super cheap every week. It's a MUST for anyone on a budget. We pick up the produce at the crack of dawn on Saturdays, and work what we got into our weekly menu so that we waste as little as possible. Since there's only two of us, sometimes that takes some effort, and sometimes we get like, a TON of one thing or another and it builds up from previous weeks. So. Before we left we had a ton of mangoes that just weren't quite ripe yet (another two days and they would have been perfect, alas! I love mangoes) and loads of other produce that wouldn't keep until we got back. So we gave some to Alley on Tuesday, then on Friday before we left, since we were already packed and the car was loaded, we took the rest of what we had up to a girl I met at church who has two kids, a deadbeat husband who she's currently trying to divorce, and gets all of her income from babysitting. Right as we were leaving, I went to put on my sneakers, knowing that there would be a lot of walking through the airport and stuff like that.
Well. The sneakers didn't fit. I mean, I could shove my feet in them with the laces completely undone and loosened, sure. But it was uncomfortable, what with my toes all smooshed together and the shoes themselves even without the laces pushing in on all sides. I pulled my foot out, it looked normal, then tried again. Definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. Haha! Yeah, they just did not fit, even from heel to toe was too small. o.0
Yep. Little known side effect of pregnancy. Sometimes, your feet grow. Literally. It's possible I'll need a size bigger shoe for the rest of my life, depending on how much I grew, though most women end up in a half size bigger shoe. I hope I get to wear my wedding sandals again some day- they were expensive, and the most comfortable pair of dress shoes I've ever owned. (Girls who plan on getting married someday: DO NOT skimp on wedding shoes. Find the most comfortable pair you can get and don't even think about the cost of them TRUST ME YOU'LL THANK ME you can cut costs somewhere else. >.>) Anyway. Husby took it pretty well. He'd somehow heard about the growing feet thing and fully expected to have to buy me a new pair of shoes. So we went to a shoe store on our way to the airport and I got a pair of sneakers that was comfortable. I fretted about it, though. I get buyer's remorse really easily- especially when I know a lot of big expenses are coming up (like paying to park our car for 11 days, rent, and baggage fees :|) but after just one day in them, I was SO glad we got them. My feet BALLOONED on the way out.
Yes, when I got on the plane, I had normal ankles. Probably not very attractive ones since I'm incredibly overweight, but I've not yet hit cankles territory, so I at least have ankles. Normally. One day later, man, cankles would have been nice. I didn't have cankles. Or ankles. I had freaking grapefruits. If I had tried to just power through in my old sneakers, I don't think I would have made it. As it was, I started to worry if maybe I shouldn't have gotten the next half size bigger, because my ankles were like, hanging over the sides of my shoes and the tops of my feet were getting swollen and I had to really loosen the laces to make them fit. Thing is, from heel to toe fit perfectly, so. At least that part hadn't blown up.
Our first flight, from Salt Lake to Denver, was pretty ok. The airlines were running really well that day and people were being orderly and cooperative, making for super fast turnaround times. I realized when we got about halfway to the airport that I'd forgotten to grab a book from home to read. So Husby, being the absolute darling that he is (and blowing the top off of my buyer's remorse syndrome yet again) said, "Well, they have bookstores in the airport, right? We'll be there a little early so we'll get you something there." I wanted to cry, and yet I was excited at the prospect of a new book. I still haven't managed to get my sorry behind to the library, so I've been craving something new for awhile. I'm so glad I asked my f-list for recs, though, as it made choosing a new book a lot easier. I knew some good titles to look for, and knew something about them. In the end, we got something that both Husby and I would like, a book called "Way of Kings" by Brandon Sanderson. He's the guy who is finishing up the Wheel Of Time series for Robert Jordan. He's also a local, so we scored an autographed copy, since he'd been there in the bookstore a few days earlier. We met him at a writing convention and got one of his kids' books, "Alcatraz versus the Evil Librarians" signed right in front of us, so we knew what his signature looks like. It was legit. I was excited. A new book to share, and I would get to read it first. Honestly, we'd never gotten through Alcatraz, because we packed it up for the move before we got done reading it and we haven't been able to find it again yet. Anyway. So, "Way of Kings" in hand, backpacks hoisted, we tromped off to our gate to board the plane.
Did I mention I was peeing every three minutes? Because yeah. Nothing is longer than a plane ride when you have to pee. For whatever reason, there was a steady stream of people in the bathroom from SLC to Denver. I didn't think I was all that claustrophobic. But the people, the nonexistent air flow, and the spiffy little pee dance I was doing really added up to an hour and a half of airborn hell. Not to mention, Doc gave me specific instructions to drink TONS of water. Which would keep me from getting a blood clot and swelling up worse (if that's even possible), but also make me have to PEE!!!! I love my husby, he's so supportive and cares about my health and that of our dear little Morphberry. He made me drink as much as I could handle before finally I almost yelled at him that I am NOT drinking any more water until I can get into that occupied bathroom, thank you very much!!!! Just as the bathroom suddenly, magically became unoccupied, the fasten seatbelt sign came on because of turbulence, and then our descent.
Husby hurried me to a bathroom at the Denver airport.
We had a couple hours of layover in Denver, which was great because we were both starving, and I needed to move around. We took the shuttles between all of the concourses, looking for something to eat (I was in a first trimester mood- nothing looked good. But that's because it was all fast food, and I wanted something healthy), and then we just walked around a bit to get my blood flowing and help stave off any clots. Pregnant women are prone to clotting if they don't move around enough. And I was fidgety anyway. But also exhausted. I hate it when I can't make up my mind about what state I want to be in. When we were walking, I just needed to sit down. Once we got sat down, man, I couldn't sit I just needed to get up and move around a little. I have never been so blasted anxious in an airport before, and it wore on me. Wore on Husby, too, since he didn't know what to do or how to help, other than keep encouraging me to drink water to stay hydrated. Oh yeah, another fun fact about flying pregnant, particularly in the second trimester: if you get too dehydrated, you can put yourself into early labor, even if the baby isn't ready to come yet. I think it has to do with like, the changing altitudes and the pressurization and well, not drinking enough. Anyway. Every little twinge I had was nerve wracking for both of us.
Denver to DC flight made Salt Lake to Denver seem like a walk in the park. We were on a bigger plane, thankfully, but we ended up in a row of three- and the third was this weird old guy who I'm guessing also had circulation issues, because he didn't sit at all the entire way unless the fasten seatbelt light was turned on. It sort of creeped us out. What upset me, though, is that when I did finally have it and got up to go to the bathroom and stretch my legs, the flight attendants glared at me like I was being rude and inconsiderate- even though Creepo-man had been up and in the aisleway the whole time! I at least went to the back of the cabin and stretched out there, where I wasn't putting my butt into the person on the other side of the aisle's face. I had to undo my bra in the bathroom for a few minutes, because I simply could not breathe in that airplane. Husby and I both had our little air spouts up to full and there just wasn't any sort of flow coming out of them. I was alternately feeling light-headed, short of breath, and queezy the whole time.
Longest. Flight. Ever.
We got in to BWI at 1 am. Husby's brother was there waiting for us, thank heavens, and took us to his house 15 mins away, rather than making Husby's parents come get us and drive us back to Virginia, an hour and a half away. Bug (Brother's nickname in High School) had two extra beds in his oldest daughter's bedroom all made up for us- one with a bazillion pillows of varying sizes and levels of firmness Wife Bug had made up just for me. I was so relieved and tired and just ready to curl up into anything. Unfortunately, both of the beds were twin sized, so Husby and I couldn't curl up together, which actually was really hard. We were so exhausted, yet neither of us could sleep until I went and snuggled against him anyway. Once he finally fell asleep, I crawled back into my pillow-laden rectangle of unconscious bliss and passed out.
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-27 06:51 pm (UTC)That does NOT sound like a fun trip at all.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-28 05:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-28 05:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-28 05:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-28 05:57 pm (UTC)That's fabulous and I'm glad it's going well.^___^