Hands Off!

Like most pregnant ladies, I get a lot of information about my changing body from What to Expect When You're Expecting.  In the last week I have developed what pop culture has dubbed a baby bump.  Not my favorite name since I associate the word "bump" with insect bites and annoying speed regulators in parking lots.  Perhaps it's my baby hanging out to let the world know that he/she exists or perhaps it's the fact that my uterus may be the size of a melon~ either way my stomach no longer retracts.  So I go to my handy dandy guide to see if it's time for this feature of pregnancy (I learned basically everyone is different~I'm guessing my petite frame just has no where to hide my little visitor).  I came across a blurb aptly entitled "Unwanted Belly Touching" in the fourth month chapter.  Instantly I am struck with anxiety and the dread of leaving my cozy apartment.  Sorry team, this is no fun picture entry, but rather a soul-bearing and more-personal-than-not outlet for me. 

So for a day or so I have been daydreaming about having a George Bluth type prison existence.  If you've never seen Arrested Development, he enjoys serving his sentence by playing sports, eating ice cream sandwiches, and endlessly having prison guards enforce the "No Touching!" rule.  I can enjoy the first two elements~running around and eating ice cream are thankfully an essential part of my existence.  Unwanted touching has been a huge struggle of mine as an adult.  At times affection from friends and family has been very difficult for me to accept.  Thankfully for those who know me well, it typically isn't an issue if I offer a high five in the place of a hug.

It first became a daily struggle when I moved to Spain to study and do mission work at a college ministry.  Though I had lived in Europe before, it was in Salamanca that I cultivated the kinds of friendships that required besos (cheek kisses) on a daily basis.  I had an especially difficult time not feeling horrible or repulsed when greeting my friends~especially the guys.  An unshaved cheek pressing itself against mine made my muscles tighten; at times I felt like it was a violation because it felt too intimate.  If I had had a boyfriend at the time, I think I would have felt like I was cheating on him.  Part of me thought I could prevent these awkward (for me) encounters by wrapping my scarf from my shoulders up to my ears.  Ultimately, I adjusted to it.  I can accept that it's a cultural thing.  This season of being super uncomfortable yielded to having no problems jumping right in with bisous (French besos) when we lived in Metz.  When my students kissed my cheeks, it melted my heart and made me believe that to "faire la bise" is the most charming practice in the world.

However, let me interject that I had an American friend while in Spain who found my problem with accepting affection unacceptable.  She made it her personal project to afflict me with hugs and touches (no worries~nothing inappropriate) constantly.  I grew to resent her efforts and always wanted to withdraw from her presence or even flat out avoid her because she made light of something I really struggled with. 

For me this touching issue goes back to spending too many of my teen years and (sadly) my early twenties not limiting or protecting myself from ungodly relationships with boys.  I'm definitely not blaming the fellas because physical affection was my substitute for having real love. Love from God, love from family, love for myself~ I didn't know how much damage I was doing to myself with the guys I dated.  When God, family, and self-esteem or self-respect (whatever you'd like to call it) entered the picture, it was a total transformation.  I have an analogy for it~ it was as if every time I messed up with a boy, I was sitting out in the sun working on a tan.  For years I was overexposed to an unhealthy behavior to the point where I got burnt badly.  When it came to affection, it was like I was sunburned, and each touch not only made me uncomfortable~ it hurt me.  I know it was an overreaction, but I was seriously distraught and upset about not being able to prevent people from touching me.

I have come a long way from this particular season in Spain.  I attribute the healing I've had in my heart for the sins of my youth to God's love and his unwillingness to let me settle.  He made me whole.  You don't have to cringe when you see me next wondering if I'll snap when you hug me.  I'm seriously not a headcase anymore.  On a side note, I did have one European tell me that they thought hugging was way more intimate than cheek kisses~ I guess if you think about it, we just press and squeeze our whole bodies together.  I do have to say, though, that Europeans have no equivalent to the hardly offensive side-hug.  I love a good side-hug.

Anywho, my touching affliction only ever pops out when I'm upset about other things.  If I'm sad, I'm typically not consoled by hugs or a hand on the back.  I just need a little space until I have expelled the tears and caught my breath.  So after all that history, I think I'm about to face a new chapter in coping with unwanted touches.  I don't think I'm nuts when I say that being touched on the stomach would offend my delicate sensibilities.  I know folks get excited about babies, but just wait until my little one has entered the world exited my body before getting all hands on.  The Expecting book gives some helpful tips for dealing with the acquaintance at church or the stranger in line with you at the grocery store.  Their more assertive techniques include a reciprocal belly touch.  That might make a cute moment~if you touch mine, I'll touch yours.  They also suggest simply taking their hand and removing it from my belly and explaining I'm not comfortable with their touching incursion. 

I'm not sure what my reaction will be, but maybe my good friends can desensitize me bit before it's inevitable.  At this point it might seem odd since I don't look pregnant, but rather like I've let myself go a bit in the mid-section.  However, if you are my friend, consider this an open invitation to lay hands on me so that I don't lash out irrationally at some poor inconnu at the drug store.  Thanks for reading and letting me share.  I hope I'm just borrowing trouble, and it'll maybe even be nice when someone delights in baby's presence.

On a happy fun note to end this rather dreary entry, Kyle told me about a funny interaction he had at work.  Someone asked him if he's looking forward to having a girl or a boy more.  In an effort to communicate that he didn't have a gender preference, he said, "I don't want either."  Too bad, buddy!  You are getting one whether you like it or not!  And only a week until we discover if the stork brought us a lil man or a lil miss....

Ice Ice Baby

I come to you a weaker me this morning.  Legend has it that upon entering the second trimester, pregnant ladies miraculously turn a new leaf and gain a new lease on life.  This was not to be my lot~  I succumbed to technicolor yawning for the first time since baby entered my life.  Alas, I suppose I was blessed to make it this long without that.  Since I need a bit of cheering up, I thought I'd share some ice skate date night photos with you.  Kyle got this awesome deal on Living Social where we got a brownie & ice cream dessert and unlimited skating at Park Tavern in Atlanta.  The dessert was excellent, and our rental skates weren't too bad either.  We both had to adjust to slippy slidies on the frozen rink as we watched about a half-dozen other couples do the same thing.  Seems we weren't the only ones participating in a Valentine's day (observed) on February 15th. 

I don't know why I'm so wide-eyed.  Perhaps this is my concentration face~yikes! 

Testing the (frozen) waters

I wasn't as good at capturing an action shot of Kyle on ice.  He rocks his classic photo pose~ the single thumb up.

Kyle calls this one his artistic shot.

City skyline at night from Piedmont Park

Ahh... that made me feel much better!  The Ham fam is off to Memphis to visit the Hudlers (that's not really their last name~it's my prefered pseudonym for my big sis and brother-in-law).  You can check out her blog Reflective Reformers!  Hope yall have a happy weekend, too!

C'est l'amour!

Love... love comes from the heart.  The king of all organs also makes blood.  Sick, Leah, why would you say that?  It's because I'm having a bit of a sanguine Valentine's Day.  In a huge oversight I scheduled an appointment with my hematologist (physician specializing in blood) bright an early on the day after V-day in Austell.  Not thinking about the date, I planned on driving over to my folks' home the night before and crashing there to make the short drive from Powder Springs to the doctor's office.  Farewell, holiday fun plans with my husband... On a similar but sort of unrelated note~it's also a hematic holiday because I'm reading Leviticus.  You don't get very far into that book before you realize that being a priest in Aaron's day was not for sissies.

I mentioned in my last post that I have a blood clotting disorder.  After a few surgeries in my teen years, I ended up with some serious post-surgical bleeding on three occasions requiring emergency medical attention.  It was pretty abnormal so I got my very own blood doctor to investigate what would cause me to hemorrhage like a Romanov.  He reluctantly diagnosed me with Von Willebrand's disease (sounds frightening, but it's not actually a disease).  This little diagnosis caused a world of hurt in the realm of health insurance.  I was branded with that loathsome label~ pre-existing condition~ bleh!  In the past 7 years since my diagnosis, I've lived a relatively healthy life~no surgeries, no prescriptions, no problems.  Meanwhile, scientists were hard at work creating more advanced tests.  My pregnancy led me back to my physician who was eager to have a new opportunity to do more sophisticated lab work. 

Why am I sharing all this super weird information with you?  A couple of reasons!  First, it has to do with baby.  Kyle's mom has Von Willebrand's disease, too.  I'm no geneticist, but I think those odds aren't good for baby to grow up into a successful clotter.  Second, I'd love to see my diagnosis thrown out.  It's a possibility that the vague results from old tests misled my doctor.  It'd make navigating health insurance policies so much easier.  Third, I'm excited about the test results.  As dorky as it sounds, I love forensic shows on television.  It's always solving a mystery with science.  I get to be the subject this time around, and I don't even have to be outlined in chalk.  Although, with the amount of blood they plan on taking, it could look like a crime scene.  Fourth, I was wondering if there were any Freuds or Josephs out there who could confirm that my recurring nightmares about vampires was linked to my weird-o blood story.  I figure that one's a long shot....  If you're the praying type or even the well-wishing type, I'll find out the results from my labs in about 2 weeks.  I'm praying for healthy blood!

I feel like I deceived you with the title.  I assure you that I hope to make this entry charming before it's all said and done.  Yesterday Kyle and I shared a little time to exchange cards and gifts before I departed.  I gave him a new journal and the latest Abigail Washburn album.  If there was ever a woman I feared stealing my husband, it is she. 

Threat Level Midnight~ if you know what clawhammer is, you understand how inferior I am to this lady.

Kyle spoiled me with some super sweet gifts.  I took pictures because it's more fun to look at them than write about them.  We also received some beautiful cards in the mail from family...

They make the Eiffel Tower a bit cheerier.

A beautiful bouquet

Vera Bradley treat, An American in Paris (yay Gershwin!), and a cute card

It's a fancy housewife treat~ I can store my coupons and keep a grocery list all in the same place.  Owning this was my true heart's desire.

I had a lovely evening hanging out with Miss Foo.  We stayed up late into the wee hours talking about God, and it was a wonderful night.  She and I are both of the mindset that Valentine's day is a lot of fun even if you don't have a significant other; we love the candies and the boxes of Valentine's with cartoon themes for school children and the cheesy "Roses are red..." poems.  I think I'm equally excited about plundering my local drugstore's V-day clearance section~ heart-shaped Sweettarts, here I come!

Today Kyle and I are going to have our first VDO~ Valentine's day (observed).  I went by our favorite French bakery in Marietta to pick up some delicious treats for an awesome dinner.

It may not look super appetizing in its to-go boxes, but here's the line up:  A French baguette (per Kyle's request), a cream cheese blueberry croissant & pain au chocolat, Eiffel Tower chocolates & raspberry jam cookies, a jar of mushroom brie soup, and a tourte au poulet (French chicken pot pie).

After I do the easy job of heating up the soup and tourte and share a romantic dinner at home with my beau, we're heading downtown to ice skate.  My ice skating days are numbered so I'm happy we're doing this activity while baby is still so small. 

If you've been pregnant before, were there certain activities you made a priority to do before the belly took over? 
I think I should probably do a couple of cartwheels before baby is large and in charge. 

Hope yall had sweet Valentine's days. <3 Bisous à tous!

Psycho Killer~Qu'est-ce que c'est?

And as this classic 80s hit goes, fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better / run run run run run run run away / *lots of "ohs" and "ays".  Tell me your not a Talking Heads fan.  Well, this charming little ditty got stuck in my head as I sat down to tell you about jogging.  I have been a fairly consistent jogger for some years now; I first hit the pavement on a regular basis back in the summer of 2005.  My big sister was getting married in August, so in May I decided I wanted to rock my bridesmaid dress with a slimmer figure.  My routine back in those days was running 3 miles 3 days a week.  Here's how that turned out...

I can't believe I'm sharing this~bleh!  This was a meatier me in December of 2004 trying on the bridesmaid dress style KHud chose.

August 2005 I was sporting a leaner look with what appears to be a suntan that can only be a precursor to melanoma.  My sisters are pretty!

Since those days, I have depended on my physical fitness routine to help me with stress management and chronic back pain from a number of car accidents (3) and one Harold accident (the Buck Buck story~ I've never shared that one on the blog...).  Kyle and I employed this running method to get fit for our wedding back in 2009, and we completed the ING half-marathon together that March.  In France it served me in my desire to explore.  I would spend hours cruising the trails in the more rural areas around Metz.  My jogs took me through mirabelle orchards, a Nazi internment camp, quaint neighborhoods, vast farmland, and shady wooded areas.  Jogging became my occupation in the month of August; I ran a total of 51.24 miles just for fun.

The long & short of Buck Buck~This is my friend Harold.  He fell on me, and it hurt.

I think my smile is so squinty because Kyle's hair turned neon orange on completing the half-marathon.

In memory of speaking French daily~ Je vais faire un jogging!  Pretty place to run, n'est-ce pas?

I really wanted to do another half-marathon and had already mentally planned on one once Kyle and I returned to the U.S.  For us, it gives us tons of quality time to talk on runs while we are training, and we ultimately accomplish something really cool together.  Have I mentioned that Kyle bakes bread every weekend trying to perfect his French baguette method?  That's another reason why this running business needed to be a priority.  I got serious about running in November once we were settled in Norcross reaching a new personal record of 55.8 miles in one month!  My hopes of maintaining this kind of routine were dashed for a bit in December.  I was fearful my plans weren't conducive for pregnancy.  I tried to take it easy and only ran around 16 miles in those 4 weeks. 

My how the turn tables.... or so says Michael Scott (The Office).  Kyle and I went for our first pre-natal visit in December and learned a thing or two.  Thanks to my awesome (facetious) blood clotting disorder, it turns out delivering the little Ham baby will have to be au naturel.  Yikes!  I did not see that one coming.  The epidural is a bit to risky for my kind~cue the tiny violins.  Right when I was down in the dumps, our midwife presented the silver lining.  Thank the Lord in heaven~they allowed me and even encouraged me to be in tip top shape.  I got the green light for the Publix half-marathon in March.  Since we are still in the early stages of the pregnancy and baby is the size of a thumb, it's not too difficult for me to keep up the same amount of running I like to do.  After we weathered some funky snow storms turning Georgia into an arctic tundra for days, I started my training.

I don't follow a regular plan for training.  I like to go out 3 or 4 days a week.  Two to three of those runs are anywhere between 3.5 to 4.5 miles.  On the weekend, I take my husband out and we do the long distance runs.  Last weekend we ran 8, and Sunday we'll run 9.  It's really fun.  I am so incredibly grateful (and have mentioned it to God a time or two) that I didn't have to give up running for the early part of the pregnancy.  After losing coffee, I don't think I could have bore the loss...

I read one fitness friend's blog, and she always ends her entries with a question.  I like it a lot (even though I've never responded to her questions~ that's right, I'm a lurking blog stalker).  Anyhow, I was curious.  Do you have a fitness routine?  If so, what do you do and why do you like it?

I've just spilled the beans about my schedule, and got a bit verbose about how it all began.  Look forward to hearing what you do!

3 Hams at Home

Merciful heavens~that was a long stint without writing.  I must confess to you that I have been avoiding the blog because I am terrible with secrets.  I have been known to pester Kyle at great lengths to surmise any surprise he has ever planned.  Come to think of it, he doesn't plan too many surprises these days... I have equally revealed a good number of things to him prematurely.  The examples of these occasions are too incriminating for me to share, but I will reveal that I had a pretty good inkling about the date he planned to propose marriage.  Thank goodness he forgave me for sleuthing a bit too much.  This is to preface why I haven't be writing.  Every time I sat downs to compose a blog, I thought, "how do I not include the big news?"

If the title eludes you and you're not a facebook frequenter, Kyle  and I are happy to share that we are expecting a little baby.  It's customary to wait through the first trimester as well as share the news with as many friends and family members in a more personal way before blasting the social network with the announcement.  With mounting pressure from a future grandmother who shall remain nameless, each day we didn't shout baby's presence from the mountain top was a day I increased her avidity. Kyle and I came up with a super Georgia Tech-y way to post on facebook thanks to a baby bib my sisters and I used to sport as wee ones.  We also modified our fight song a bit to talk about our little one.

We don't normally keep a GT shrine on our floor.  This was a special occasion.

Let's rewind back to November when the little one was just a twinkle in Kyle's eye.  Kyle and I had decided we wanted to start trying for a new family member.  We weren't in a hurry and even expected it'd take some time.  My big sister hooked me up with a fertility book which turned out to be a very interesting read.  However, I had no opportunity to put the book's recommended methods into practice (charting temperatures and such).  With how much goes into conception, it's a miracle anyone ever has a baby.  Kyle and I simply had dumb luck (or rather, God had a plan).  In the beginning of December I started to become suspicious because the fertility book had lots of information~my head was swimming with "I could be..." followed by "no way, I'm psyching myself out."  Kyle put me out of my misery by purchasing a home test to calm my overactive mind.  A sigh of relief~it was negative, and I could go back to being normal.

Well, if there ever was a too-soon-moment, this was one of them.  I don't want to make you uncomfortable with too much information, but my lady days were MIA.  I simply chalked it up to a very busy and somewhat stressful holiday season~ after all, we spent a good amount of time on the road catching up with our families.  It felt like we were barely at home.  Then something special happened.  On my birthday I had a dream; a resounding sentence rang through my slumber.  I'm pregnant.  Upon waking I remembered it, but I laughed it off and didn't even bother to mention it to Kyle.  Two days later and still no lady days, Kyle insisted on visiting the drug store one more time.  He was becoming highly suspicious.  Wednesday, December 15th, 2010~ in the morning before Kyle went to work~that is when we learned.  He was happy, and I was in shock (like disbelief).  The following Sunday we took one more test just to be certain.  It was all certainty from that point on. 

A gift for the grandparents~ they were puzzled to receive a baby book.

Happy 2011!  I rang in the New Year with some sparkling grape juice.  Baby is into juice.

We told our families about our little one at Christmas time, and there was much rejoicing.  After a couple of doctor visits, a major change in diet (farewell 3 cups of coffee a day~hello Cheerios!), and a ridiculous dependency on naps; we are well on our way.  Our little Ham is set to arrive August 14th, 2011.  I have so much more to share.  One thing I don't think I'm ready for~ is it time to become a "Mommy blogger"?  Hmm... we'll take it nice and slow at first.