Last Months of Freedom .... January 21, 2013

“Enjoy those last months of freedom together before baby arrives!” Brent and I got this memo from countless parents.

Last night we attempted to follow their advice with a nice, romantic bubble bath.


If it weren’t for my pregnancy gas it might have lasted longer than two minutes. As Brent gagged while holding soap to his nose and yelling, “It’s going through the soap,” I laid there motionless. Even as Brent jumped out of the tub knocking over a glass and shattering it on the bathroom floor I soaked. And when he barged into the bathroom with the vacuum and bubbles still on his back I closed my eyes and didn’t move a muscle.

I don’t know how these other parents made the most of their time before baby arrived, but Brent and I have quietly surrendered to third trimester symptoms and given up the dream of grand adventures and romantic escapades before baby arrives. Truthfully, our defeat began before we even got started.

Pregnant woman getting ready for a night out:
Husband would walk into the bedroom just in time to see me half dressed, yelling, “nothing fits!” Sadly, his encouraging comments and wardrobe suggestions only upset me more. Since our dinner reservations were usually for 5pm because I'm tired by 8pm we were always rushing. Occasionally I got teary as Brent put on my shoes and socks either because he was tucking in my jeans wrong or it reminded me that I was too large to bend over. Then like clockwork, I always had to pee right as we were walking out the door.


Welcome to the third trimester of pregnancy or as I like to call it “hide yourself at home and FREAK OUT time”.

The beginning of our third trimester was still enjoyable with...

maternity pictures

generous baby showers

a long holiday break with family


and a stellar Lisa Loeb karaoke performance

When January 1st hit however, it was time to get SERIOUS.

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. Not because I regretted spending the previous months picking out the perfect maternity picture wardrobe and mapping out our restaurant picks for the holidays INSTEAD OF preparing for a BABY, but because my diaphragm was suddenly being squished by holiday food and/ or baby. The only thing that helped was sitting up straight, which would later instigate a fight after Brent insisted that I sit back and relax.

Things to do:
  • Pick a pediatrician.
  • Return a carload of items to stores that have no parking. (Items: maternity pic clothes I left the tags on).
  • Make a trip to Ikea ON THE WEEKEND! Carbo-load the night before.
  • Write thank you notes without crying from emotional appreciation, sore wrists or my bad handwriting.
  • Put together Ikea furniture...
  • Take apart Ikea furniture because it is upside down.
  • Call manager at cheap baby store with assertiveness about our furniture we ordered in November.
  • Buy new microwave instead of holding the broken microwave door on.
  • Call Tom Jowett when the microwave installers can’t fit new model.
  • Figure out where the hospital is.
  • Attend five prenatal classes.
  • Slowly get up and quietly leave the wrong class and find correct class.
  • ATTEMPT to spiff up the Dodge Avenger before my parents trade cars with us.
  • Explain to the framers at JoAnn’s that we don’t need museum glass for our poster of the alphabet.
  • Make an “in labor” playlist.
  • Watch The Bachelor.
  • And of course, enjoy these last weeks of freedom.

The list might be more manageable if my nesting instinct wasn’t on ludicrous speed. I spent days organizing our pictures all the way from grade school and cleaning out bookcases, which turned emotional as Brent pulled out reminders of many failed career attempts.... All You Need to Know About the Music Business, The Power of PR, Massage and It’s Benefits, Screen Writing for Dummies and Brent’s favorite, When Things Fall Apart. After organizing the rest of the drawers and closets in the house I rediscovered lost items. I’m a little sad I found the electric hair remover I received as a gift (??). Not only are my sideburns gone, but also part of my hair line. Another reason to hide at home.

Despite all the things to do and obstacles that come from being pregnant, I have to say the hardest thing to manage as we close in on our due date are the emotions.


Brent and I definitely feel anxious and scared as we enter the unknown. Our prenatal teacher attempted to convince a room full of first time parents that this is the “best time of our lives,” after watching a video on giving birth... whah whah.

As Brent and I stayed up late one night frantically putting together one of our many unknown baby devices I began to see what our teacher was talking about. After a while of messing with our digital monitor Brent got it working unbeknownst to me who was looking confused... on camera. I looked over to see what Brent was snickering about and spotted my contorted face on the monitor screen. We laughed so hard I wet myself.

Feeling vulnerable will definitely leave you frantic, confused and like that contorted person I spotted on the monitor. But it can also open you up to so many other beautiful things when you let go, laugh and let yourself go... in your pants. In our fragile state Brent and I have already appreciated and loved more freely. We have been put to the test multiple times and are stronger personally and as a couple.


As we step to the edge of the cliff together and get ready to jump I can only imagine how we’ll feel at the end... and as a family.

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Butter Trimester .... January 8, 2013

I am out of breath. I finally sat down to write about my life as a pregnant lady, but it takes a lot to get situated these days. After tugging on my underwear for a good minute I have enough energy left to say - Oh My God, We’re Having A Baby!

They should really label the third trimester - “Time to Freak Out” & “Hide Yourself at Home”. Before we enter the part where I’m crying while my husband ties my shoes let’s enter the beautiful world of the second trimester. 

BUTTER!

The second trimester of pregnancy should be called the butter trimester. Not because you eat gobs of it or rub it on your belly, but because this phase is EASY and Magical. There’s no more dry heaves as you walk down the street past the chicken shop. Instead you have enough energy to eat all the chickens in the store.

As you devour chickens in your new maternity jeans you wonder, “why I didn’t buy maternity jeans before?” Seriously, jeans with an elastic band should be enjoyed by all.


After you lick the last bone and wipe the grease on your elastic band you notice the onlookers are not grossed out by your caveman behavior, but instead find your BBQ mustache and chicken bit-covered teeth breathtaking. It’s mother nature with a side of ranch.

From that moment on I tried to ONLY eat in public.

Once you start showing, the red carpet is laid down.
  • Flatulence is excused and encouraged.
  • Forgetting important dates and being stupid is okay thanks to your “pregnancy brain.”
  • Flight attendants allow you to use the bathroom before the seatbelt sign is off.
  • People open doors for you and let you cut in line, especially the buffet line.
  • And if you are lucky you might get to cut in line at H&M’s dressing room. That’s huge, but so are you.

It’s the magic of pregnancy.

Let’s not forget baby! Because seriously you might. While there are not as many symptoms in the second trimester, there are a lot of first signs of life that will leave you in awe of your body, your baby and this world.


  • Finally seeing the shape of a face on the sonogram
  • Feeling a kick for the very first time
  • Hubby’s first time feeling the baby kick
  • Finding out the gender
  • Realizing you’re about to be parents

THAT is the magic of pregnancy.

As for the gender - Since I have a flare for the dramatic and Brent loves pizza we found out the gender of our baby by the topping of our pizza at a local pizza shop. All day I carried an envelope with the gender of our baby waiting for Brent to get off work. I panicked a little when I found out that Coalfire Pizza was closed on Mondays. I was feeling sentimental over that location because that’s where Brent and I decided to start ‘trying’ after two large pizzas and a bottle of wine. And NO that is not where our baby was conceived. I found it strange that I had to keep clarifying that.

We were the earlybirds at Piece Pizza that day and thank goodness we ended up at that location. The waiter in our area was a film major.



Surprised? We definitely were. Brent and I were both convinced we were having a girl. I had a few friends blurt out, “You wanted a girl!”, after watching the video, which I always found funny because 1.) I cannot hide my emotions and 2.) I was kind of in the mood for pepperoni pizza that day.

I admit it took some adjustment to envision life as a mother to a boy.

Hubby when he was a boy.

At first I worried about my nursery plans and what mothers wore who had sons. The real issue however was the unknown. I was all ready for the puberty talk with a girl, but what was I going to tell my son.

Over the months I have learned a very important lesson in the still moments I share with my son...

... It doesn't matter.

My boy will love me because I am his mother, I will love him unconditionally because he is my son and the rest we will figure out. Now I cannot imagine anything else, but a little boy wreaking havoc wherever he goes and changing our lives forever.

I also can’t stop imagining buttermilk pancakes after all this butter talk. I suggest a butter break for all and maternity jeans.


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First Trimester .... November 14, 2012

Summary of My First Trimester:
  • “You know what sounds good for dinner? Stir-fry”
  • “Oh my gosh I cannot stand the thought of stir-fry. Don’t even say it!”
  • DRY HEAVE
  • “Look at me! These pants don’t even button.”
  • “Uhhhh. I can’t breath.”
  • “I HAVE TO PEE.”
  • “It was me okay.”
  • “Are you trying to kill me with that cologne.”
  • DRY HEAVE
  • “Turn the channel, this commercial makes me bawl my eyes out.”
  • “Don’t you remember me telling you about that commercial? You don’t even know who I am!”
  • “I HAVE TO PEE.”
  • “I love you so much.”
  • “Please don’t touch me.”
  • DRY HEAVE
  • “I HAVE TO PEE.”

I think my husband would agree that I had a pretty standard first trimester… that is until the third month. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease after a month of symptoms, weeks of waiting to get an appointment with a gastrointestinal doctor and several “different” tests. Well that's different...


I’ve decided to leave the bathroom talk out of this post. I learned the hard way that people, especially those I just met, do not need to know everything about my bowel movements. But for the record, I am pro-poop. I think some people’s constipation problems stem from society’s negative emotions around poop and talking about it. If there were a poop walk or poop poetry slam I’d sign up.

For now I’d like to discuss my feelings. I think my husband would rather talk about poop.

Summary of My Feelings:
In the past I found the lessons of a hard experience to be the reward and reason for having gone through them. Us ladies love to apply this rule to bad relationships. “He broke up with you for a reason… one of which is to give us permission to eat this wheelbarrow of ice cream.”


My experience with Crohn’s was different. I have yet to fully comprehend the reason for this diagnosis or its timing. Without understanding the reason I cannot reason with myself and put my mind at ease. I’m sure my husband would agree that an unsettled pregnant woman is scary, which was fine for the Halloween season, but as we move into the holidays I will need to reevaluate or find myself taking it out on the family over yams wearing a velvet maternity dress.

So far the only way I’ve found to cope with an ongoing aliment, the lifestyle changes and the uncertainty of the future is to let go. When I stop the worrying, pity party, guilt and electric shock dairy therapy I am okay.


Maybe I don’t need to understand the reason for everything. Maybe I just trust in life and myself. But one thing is for certain, it is a lot easier to let go and have faith with love and support. As I looked up at my husband while we waited for the “air to pass” after my sigmoidoscopy I smiled realizing how lucky I was… and because I was passing gas. It doesn’t hurt to laugh either.

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Finding Out .... October 24, 2012

May. I can't help it, the month of May is a very big time of year around our household due to my annual birthday. You might remember our Vegas birthday celebration. Brent and I were the couple that went to Vegas to EAT and sleep.

I also celebrated with family and friends by EATING.

And on my actual birthday I ATE.

Why is it that weight piles on, all at once, weeks later?

Commencing Annual Birthday-Weight-Gain-Meltdown sometime in June:

“Brent!!!”

He stuck his soap-covered face out of the shower.

“Look at me!” I screamed like I had just been decapitated.

I stood to the side in a tank-top that barely covered my middle and looked in the mirror in disbelief. Brent closed the shower door. After studying my profile I had an alarming thought. I flung open the shower door, “Do you think I’m already three months pregnant and we just don’t know?”

Turning off the shower, he calmly answered, “No”.

I turned around to look in the mirror again still not convinced. I sucked my stomach in and pushed it back out a couple times then said in a daze as I rubbed my belly, “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test.”

Forgetting Brent was still in the room I quickly tried to sell the idea knowing how he felt about all the pregnancy tests that had been taken over a period of eleven months. In a voice three octaves higher, I made my case, “I mean I have a test and I should be able to tell. My period is supposed to start tomorrow."

I couldn’t tell if he was making a face from digging the q-tip too far in his ear or if he didn’t like my explanation, but I knew what was coming.

“Erin,” plea voice, “let’s just wait until tomorrow. It is so late.”

Knowing he was too tired to argue I enthusiastically rummaged through my poorly organized bathroom storage to find the pregnancy test.

“Ah ha!”

I quickly opened the package, sat on the toilet and waited for…. nothing. Oh great I thought. I left the test on the counter and went looking for a solution.

After two full glasses of water Brent was onboard, but mainly to shut me up, and I think he had become a little curious. As we watched a Friends episode in bed a funny scene came on and after a little giggle I felt the urge.

As the pregnancy test sat on bathtub ledge... testing, I began preparing myself for the “no” I had experienced many times before. I had gotten really good at finding positive things to take out of the situation. I started the usual dialogue in my head as I reasoned with myself in the mirror, "Hey Erin, chin up. You'll have more time to write and you'll be able to get to your ideal weight."

I began brushing my teeth not paying attention to the test I earlier couldn’t find fast enough. While brushing, I turned around to get a glimpse with the same face I gave boys I liked in grade school, but didn’t want to know.

Wait.

I spun around. There it was. The First Response Early Result Gold Digital Pregnancy Test was saying in capital letters, "YES+" !!!


With toothpaste rolling down my chin and adrenaline taking over, I managed to get out, “Um, Brent…”


We took two just to be double sure and didn't sleep at all that night.
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Stages .... October 18, 2012

Today I am gassy, zity (how does one get zits on their arms and thighs?) and fatter than yesterday. I've entered the beautiful world of pregnancy.

Before I became pregnant I imagined myself floating angelically from a white light to the drive thru line of Taco Bell and sitting silently at get-togethers with an eerie smile on my face as I stroked my belly and nodded my head.


The only white light I've seen are the fluorescent lights on the ceiling in the hospital as I waited for the "air to pass" after my sigmoidoscopy. * Don't worry pregnant-women-to-be it is not standard to have any sort of anal procedure during your pregnancy. But before I get to my butt, let's talk ovaries.... FINALLY!


Seriously, I've been waiting months to talk about my ovaries. Hubby, rightly so, did not want me to blast to the worldwide internet that we were trying to get pregnant. I, on the other hand, was so excited when we decided to start "trying", I blurted it out to everyone.

"Brent and I are trying."

"Oh, that's fantastic. Good luck to you. Also, does your husband like light or medium starch?"

It took us little less than a year to get pregnant. I know that is "normal", but nevertheless, we/ I went through some stages.

Stages:
  1. Shedding a teary "we're going to have a baby," when deciding to start trying
  2. Finding it freeing to receive praise from friends, family and strangers when divulging that Brent and I were getting it on
  3. Getting organized to "try" by making an appointment to see my OBGYN
  4. Realizing it was probably not necessary to see my OBGYN after our two minute appointment ended with, "Well, good luck!"
  5. Having many romantic moments with Brent
  6. Thinking I'm pregnant immediately 
  7. Eating and crying a lot because I think I'm pregnant
  8. Passing on drinks at parties because I MIGHT be pregnant making people think I am pregnant
  9. Buying a butt load of pregnancy tests and taking them way too early
  10. Slamming down tampons at the local drugstore counter
  11. Realizing I bought the ovulation sticks without the tester while sitting on the toilet
  12. Placing a flashlight near the toilet so that when I wake up at 4 am to pee I'll be ready to take my ovulation test
  13. Making strategies when my ovulation overlapped with travel plans or visitors
  14. Having many unromantic moments with Brent
  15. Smiling with excitement and maybe a little bit of self-pity when others got pregnant before me
  16. Getting pregnant the month I gave up and decided to drink
Trying to get pregnant is just like the statement - a try. It is not guaranteed and there are many self doubts that come up in the process especially when you hear someone else's story.

At a moment when I was feeling doubt after reading about incompetent cervixes for an hour my dad reassured me with one simple question, "Do you think you will have a baby?"


Even though I did not know the competence of my cervix, I honestly believed without a doubt that I would someday have a baby. It felt good to be reminded about faith. That's when I realized how much this baby was already teaching its mommy and daddy.

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Game On .... October 18, 2012

It's been almost four months since my last post. I'll be honest, I seriously contemplated ending the Pot Pie run. I'm sure there will be times when I seriously contemplate this again. Blogging usually starts out with either humble intentions or high expectations, and always underestimates the work involved. I've felt all.

While the purpose of this blog has changed over the years, as I've changed, today I label it with yet another purpose. The purpose - to be a sound board for...

                        ME.

I am fully aware that this is blogging suicide. Every blog article will tell you that it is very important that you offer SOMETHING to your readers. As these articles clearly state with no apologies, "One must not ramble about one's mundane life. Your readers do not care about you."

But that my friends is the key to writing!!! Or at least my writing. If I care that my content pleases, serves a purpose or entertains my readers I am not writing honestly...

I am putting myself in a writing box...

I am not putting my heart/ balls out there...

So here's my attempt to not please you. Hope you like it. Game on Erin Pot Pie!

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USA VIP's .... July 2, 2012

My husband is a country music fanatic. This is generally a surprise to most people, but every morning Brent jams to Jason Aldean in his Ford Edge wearing Ray-Bans and a button up.

As we begin celebrating our independence I feel as though Brent and I are USA VIP's.


We can walk a little taller around...

lemonade stands

warm potato salads

and squeaky lawn chairs knowing what we know about the homeland, rocking chairs, porches, tractors, strawberry wine and the open road.


As a child I would spend many 4th of July's at my grandparent's farm. Honestly, those experiences would have made some EXCELLENT country songs:

Grandpa would cook those wieners
We would ride them horses
Thank God for Aunt Ernestine's skills
Or I might have fallen over them hills

Then the chorus would go along these lines:

Boys quit blowing up the cow paddy's
Fireworks are fun, but I'm gonna tell daddy
There's poop in my hair
What a bear
I lost my appetite for homemade ice-creammmm

Yeah, we listen to a lot of country...

I have celebrated the 4th of July many other ways over the years. On the lake with friends, in a backyard with bags, in the front yard with bug spray, on a rooftop at the beach and in front of the TV with Grandma. No matter where I am or how old I get, whenever those fireworks start I revert back to the little girl I was on the farm.

I look for a family member or friend to hold as we stop everything in our lives to gaze up at the spectacle. For those moments our minds go blank and it is wonderful.

While we may not always be thinking of our ancestors or how blessed we are to be American's like Tim McGraw, I think our forefathers would be pleased with our present 4th of July celebrations. I think they would want us to stop our hectic lives, let go and appreciate one another.

Here's to a Happy 4th of July, family, freedom and appreciating our moments together! And let's not forget to honor the summer and all it's summer glory. EPP will be taking a summer break, but back soon after bomb pop season. Hope to see you on the sandlot!


Our family together over Father's Day weekend... don't worry there isn't too much country music in it. Happy 4th fam!

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