As you’ve probably noticed, I don’t tend to post in this journal when I fail to make an update– I figure everyone has enough Internet noise as it is. Though I am willing to do so if folks find it helpful or even courteous.

At the risk of jinxing myself, next week should see the end of Part 8: Birds of a Feather, which has gone on about two months longer than intended, thanks to a certain fetus.

This holds true with web apps and communities as well. It takes awhile for me to decide the usefulness of joining and using, this was true for LiveJournal, Flickr… and now Twitter.* (Interesting examples as I consider all three journaling sites: traditional, pictorial and expositional.)

When I redesigned my website and set up my new Wordpress blog, I realized I missed traditional journaling; documenting an event or thoroughly exploring an idea. Besides the discipline and mind stretching, I enjoy and find it useful to go back and see where I was at at a certain point in time. The only reason I didn’t start there and then is this was about the time I discovered I was pregnant. Naturally this would’ve been the topic most on my mind and I was far from ready to reveal or discuss anything about that.

But that (and this) type of journaling can consume more time than I have to spare. This is partly why Flickr became my default journal of sorts a couple years back. It’s an excellent way for me to document things I’d done and when. But, naturally, it doesn’t capture thoughts.

In walks Twitter. Actually, I was first introduced to Twitter about two years ago and was unimpressed and bewildered by the application. But then, the examples I saw all followed this model:

“What a nice day!”

“I had breakfast.”

“My neighbor mowed the lawn.”

And so on. It just took enough people I knew to join in and the standard use to tweak slightly before I became intrigued. Brenna’s regular Twitter collections helped soften me quite a bit, actually. It’s nice to have a place to share a thought or simple happening without feeling obliged to build a post around it nor look for commentary.** (People can comment on a particular entry, but it feels more conversational than an acknowledgment.) Or create an email and figure out who all to send it to. This way it’s out there free to amuse or annoy as folks may choose.

Also, as I do these things for my own benefit as well to share, I’m pleased to have a place to jot things down, have time stamped and then collect every week as an ersatz diary. And, yes, a lot of the thoughts and events are about my pregnancy—it is changing and ruling my life after all. It’s for that reason that I wish I had started Twittering before, then I would know exactly when Kip first felt Taran kick, laughing and crying as he did so. (Thankfully I happen to know when I first felt her as I was dashing off an email to Dylan at the time and chose to mention it to her.)

And, really, the biggest reason I decided I must start Twittering is that I can think of no better way to document my labor and delivery while sharing with those who can’t or choose not to be there first hand.***

* Yes, somewhere after Kris and before Dylan, I joined Twitter. And by god, I enjoy it.

***I imagine there will be a point in the process I’ll be handing it over to Dylan.

Yes, it used to be Chapters and Scenes, but I reasoned my way to parts and Chapters a while ago. Eventually I’ll update everything to reflect that. In all my spare time. Wherever that went.

Mine have to do with my pregnancy, natch. My Body is a treacherous and willful beast these days that seeks to thwart me as often as possible. In regards to my producing Dicebox, the latest point of contention is that we’ve apparently developed a daily sitting limit–and most of it is taken by the day job during the work week.

I argued with my Body last night around 9pm, when I had maybe a half an hour left of work on this latest page and it insisted on calling in quits:

Me: Oh, come ON! Just til 10pm, we can do until 10! That’s nothing!

Body: Nope.

Me: Don’t be such a baby.*

Body: Feel that ache in the back? In your legs, your throbbing feet and head? It’s not getting any better unless you lay down, NOW.

Me: “whine”

Body: That’s what you get for having sex with Kip…

Me: But we LIKE having sex with Kip!

Body: Yeah, well, what has he done for us lately?**

And so it went. As usual, Body bullied me to bed. And proceded to oversleep so I had to bang out the last little bit of this simple page in a frantic pace before hurtling to the day job.

(Stupid Body. Just wait until November and I don’t need to worry about the effects on Taran. Boy, are you in trouble then. Yes, indeed.)

* Sorry, Taran, no slight intended
** My Body’s an ingrate, Kip, we both know this.

Where the hell is Matt?

The most delightful thing I’ve seen courtesy of the internet in ages.

(via Making Light)

But that’s last week’s news, for there is an update today! It also includes the small update I made this past weekend. (permalink)

My sudden down time actually had more to do with plant fertility than mine–though what the hormones are doing to my sinuses didn’t help at all.

I’m so ridiculously pleased we have a shot of Taran’s yolk sac.

She was only 18mm then, about the size of a pinto bean (she’s about 7 inches now, crown to rump) This shot is from my first OB/Gyn appointment of this event; I started giggling in hysterical denial. Even with watching the beating of the heart. (That hot white area in the baby area? Right above the measurement dot that aligns with the top of the word “baby”? That’s the heart.)

I mean, I spent all of my life up to this point not pregnant. Heck, I still don’t quite believe it, despite my rapidly expanding bump and the taps from within the womb. Kip and I figure I might begin to accept it once my water breaks.

There are a few reasons for me not to have gotten a full page done. And here’s one; I said I had lots to report last week, which is true, but can really be summed up in one statement: I’m pregnant.

Say hello to our now and future daughter:

This picture is from her landmark 20 week ultrasound yesterday (she has all her organs, we’re so proud!) Her ETA is October 31st.

This is my explanation for my somewhat erratic Dicebox updates, unanswered email and lack of internet presence. Well, along with the day job and other factors, the Kid just added another obstacle. And will probably continue to mess around with my schedule and plans for the near future.

I actually first suspected I was pregnant when Kip and I were enjoying a spectacular lunar eclipse in February. My cycle is reliably 26 days in length and January’s cycle began before the last full moon. True, work was heating up, as was getting ready for the Stumptown Comics Fest, so there was a stress factor–but that usually makes me early, not late.

But I was feeling bloated and pre-menstrual in general and so assumed things would begin to flow any day now; I bought some nice chocolate in anticipation. Ten days later I realized these chocolates were as of yet uneaten.

I bought my first pregnancy test. In my life. And was a bit stunned when I got a positive result immeadiately. Kip’s reaction: “Goodness.” In fact that was his reply to the next five things I said. I think he was stunned too.

The thing is, after trying for about six years (or not trying to not try) and getting certain results from certain medical tests, we had decided that a homegrown kid was not going to happen for us. We had started to talk seriously about adopting in the near future–the consequence being me getting knocked up, naturally.

I remember talking to Patrick at the beginning of February about how I thought I might be developing a food allergy, cause I felt lousy after every time I ate. A trend that continued with a vengance throughout my first trimester–I was pretty much nauseated every waking moment to lesser and greater amounts. Never got physically ill, but then, I wonder if it would’ve been a relief if I had.

The most frustrating and near unbearable first trimester symptom was how I was compelled to go to bed at least two hours early every night–nevermind needing to have a bit of a lie-down as soon as I got home from work. This rather sucked as I count on these hours after work to get things done. This is what was lead to my rough updating of Dicebox beginning the end of February throughout March and the beginning of April. And is one of the many reasons why the Kid is so grounded for the first three years.

By the way, Dylan begged me to amend my statements of having “a touch of the flu” in regards to delaying a Dicebox update to “a touch of the pregnant.” She’s known for a while, and has been entertaining me with the odd visual jokes which were well timed for those days I felt particularly oppressed by the fertility of it all. A prime example of Dylan humor is below:

Ah, my little parasite.

I have to admit, I’m not a pregnant personality, in fact, I’d outsource if I could. I never had a biological clock–where as the ticking of Kip’s can be quite loud times. Well, really, more accurately, his desire to raise children.

All that said I am feeling pretty good about it these days. I’m finding the whole process absolutely fascinating (as well as valuable writing research). The ultrasounds delight me, the BIG needles of the CVS and Amniocentesis, not so much. I’m having issues with my ever mutating and disobedient body but am looking forward to meeting the Kid and working with Kip to help her adapt to this world.

But actually, the real reason that there’s not quite a page of Dicebox this weekend is that Kip and I went back this east this weekend. Initially to visit my Mom and see MoCCA again, but it quickly expanded into an event packed family weekend in New York City, what with my brother and his wife and daughter coming to town as well as Kip’s folks being in NYC for a Leica conference. Which was great fun, if a little crazy. Mom scheduled a lot of touristy activities that I never did in twenty years of living an hour away from NYC–the pictures here give a hint of all we did that weekend. (Not pictured, seeing the musical the Lion King, which was everything I heard it was: amazing puppetry, effects, costumes and performances. As for the story, well… )

We did get some time to see MoCCA as well as David Byrne’s installation, Playing the Building. Also a quick trip to the Met for the disappointing Super Hero Fashion exhibit and a more satisfactory ramble through some of the more permanent exhibits. And it was in the ancient Egyptian section that I found my patron fertility goddess:

She looks as thrilled as me about the entire process.

Oh Isis-Aphrodite, hear me in my ennui…