A few thoughts on pregnancy

**Warning: if 3-D ultrasound photos creep you out, do not scroll down.**

I have no plans to turn this blog into an all-pregnancy-all-the-time kind of place. Nor do I, for that matter, intend to make it an all-about-my-baby-all-the-time thing, when that point comes. Since both are a pretty big thing in my life though (the first now, the second later), I'll write about each with some regularity. This is Steffblogg, after all. It's not Alliblog. Ugh. Alliblog. What a horrible name. The whole point of it has always been two pronged. First, to give me an outlet to write about things I want to share. Secondly, to give people an idea of what our life here is like. Especially Oliver's mom. He's a man of few words on the phone, and I know he doesn't tell her about 9/10 of what goes on with us. Sorry about that, Konni.

I'm one-third of the way through this pregnancy, and I've been thinking about it a lot (Shocking, I know). It's been really positive so far, and really interesting. Some things that have really gotten me thinking:

1. I don't think I can properly describe in words just how good it has made me feel when people react with real excitement and happiness to the news. I've gotten cards, hugs, promises of handmade gifts, multiple exclamation points (via email), and declarations of "you just made my day!" I know I'm stating the obvious here, but other people sharing my excitement... it's the greatest feeling. It makes me want to go find a friend / relative, hear some good news, and shower that person with well wishes. 

2. I know I'm going to eat these words in a few months... but I'm really impatient to start looking pregnant. I've got a little bump, but it's so small that it's probably mistaken for a regular paunch. The aftermath of a big lunch maybe. I want the cute, medium-sized bump! I even bought a t-shirt for it last week: navy blue with a cute design and the words "two hearts that beat as one". Sappy? Perhaps. Don't judge me!

3. If you go onto Google and type in a symptom - any symptom - and the word "pregnancy", there will be hits. Aside from the obvious ones: bloating, cramps, constipation, backaches, nausea, exhaustion, etc., there are things like "hot feet", "numb fingertips", "nodules on the gums" and "drooling". Drooling? Good lord... Who knew this was such a carnival freakshow of medical issues? And here I was worried about farting in public.

It's all worth it, though. Here's a picture of the little one. It was taken about three weeks ago, so things have probably changed since then. Still:

Weekend in the Quiet Corner

You might remember me saying that we were going to Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July weekend. Plans changed, as so many plans have changed this year (sometime I'll tell you about the dozen different summer trips we mapped out before actual flights were booked). Unsure how well three months of pregnancy and three nights of tent sleeping would mix, I canceled our campground reservations only to discover that all hotels were already booked. Ah well. Next year, perhaps?

Instead, we found ourselves in Connecticut's "Quiet Corner", a sleepy, somewhat bucolic area in the north of the state. We stayed at a beautiful B & B, wandered down country roads, snuck into a corn field (being careful, of course, not to disturb any of the corn), swam in a pool, saw fireworks. On the actual 4th, we went to Woodstock's annual 4th of July Jamboree. This place was almost unreal in its small-town Americana charm. There was a frog jumping contest for kids(' frogs). There was a pie eating contest (not for frogs). The ladies of the church sold strawberry shortcake with homemade biscuits. A band played in the gazebo - the band meets once a month in the local church basement, and its leader invited members of the general public to come and join anytime.

The festival's high point was the parade - it was the coolest, folksiest, small towniest parade I've ever seen. The elderly veterans marched first, followed by a marching band of local citizens. The town's kids came next - it seemed like every single one was there - on bikes decked out with balloons, red-white-and-blue streamers, and stuffed animals. A string of vintage cars followed, and the local fire trucks closed things out. Short, simple. 

 the view

 the corn (way more than knee high, by the way)

 measuring the frog's jump

fancy bikes in the parade

(And on an unrelated note, Germany lost its game today. I've written about the team a couple times, so I thought I'd complete the story arc with a mention of their demise. A sad day indeed.)

Deutschland Tor!

Germany won another World Cup game this weekend, beating Argentina to move on to the semifinals. We watched it at a local sports bar, and I have to say it was more than a little strange to see Oliver drinking a beer at 10 am. Ah well. That's how it's done, I guess.

The actual strategy/athletics part of the sport still sort of makes my eyes glaze over, but I've found other ways to amuse myself. A couple things I've noticed:

Mesut Oezil. This picture doesn't really show it, but he has the biggest, saddest eyes I've ever seen. He runs around the field looking like an abandoned puppy. And he's 21 - a little baby! I want to take him home - teach him to read, give him a soft toy to play with.

Bastian Schweinsteiger (in black). The literal translation of his last name is "pig climber." Pig climber. Heh heh. Oh, the schoolyard taunts he must have dealt with. Guess he's laughing now, though. All the way to the bank.

And of course, there's Joachim. Looking sharp as always, my friend.

Seriously, this World Cup thing is turning out to be a lot of fun. It helps of course, when the team you're rooting for keeps winning its games. We joke that if it were possible, we'd sneak a tiny Germany jersey and soccer ball into the womb. May as well get the whole family in on the fun, right?

14 Paper Clips

 The first item of clothing to go. Farewell, fitted waistlines.

I am blessed, and I know that. The first trimester of my pregnancy has been easy. The nausea has been limited, and limited to just that: nausea. The only foods I have actively not wanted to eat, sweets and Mexican food, are hardly depriving the little one of valuable nutrients. I've been tired often and a little uncomfortable now and then, but if those are my biggest complaints, well, see sentence # 1.

Overall, it has been a very positive experience so far. I really like being pregnant. I feel fuller, more meaningful. I live a small life, and I can't help but think that creating this baby - and any others that follow it - is probably the most noble thing I will ever do. I feel powerful.

I also feel anxious. I look at my flaws and weaknesses and hate the thought of passing those on to my child, or seeing them affect my child's quality of life. I worry that something will go wrong in the next months, that the brain will stop forming or the umbilical cord will get wrapped around something it shouldn't be wrapped around. And six months? Only six months left to prepare? That seems really close, and a mere four weekends from now it will be five months.

Luckily (again, I'm blessed), my excitement and faith that everything will turn out fine generally win out over the anxieties. The baby is 8 centimeters long already! It weighs around 14 grams (paperclips)! I have heard its heartbeat, and seen it move its arms. This is good.

Loew

Germany played its third game in the World Cup today. I wasn't able to watch, but Oliver filled me in on all the details this evening. They won, and they'll play again this weekend. Woo hoo! Can't wait to watch... and that's in no small part because of this guy:

Joachim Loew, the coach. Look at him! I just love him. Windswept hair, dapper coat... and that scarf! I can't process this. 

...And is that a gold bracelet on his arm?

I grew up with this guy as my archetypal coach:

Oops, mistake. Wrong picture. Sorry about that. I actually meant to post this one here:

Jowls, mustache, heft. Mike Holmgren wouldn't be caught dead in a peacoat.  And he definitely wouldn't wear some fancy little pair of Italian leather loafers. Hand the man a Starter jacket, put a clipboard in his beefy man paws, and he'd be set to go.

Oh Joachim, what will you wear for the next game? Will it be that fitted, cornflower-blue sweater from game 1? A killer suit, perhaps? I look forward to Sunday.

Decompressing

The view in the early evening.

Last weekend we finished up our whirlwind 5-weeks-of-entertaining-and-traveling spectacular. We were in Fargo, North Dakota for a wedding, and it was fantastic. I've got such a cool family; I can't believe I don't see them more often. It's frustrating to live so far from all your relatives. Why can't I just live in Wisconsin, Michigan, North Dakota and Germany all at once? (And somewhere crazy and foreign too. I can't be tied down!) Maybe then visits wouldn't be "an occasion" - they'd just be a Saturday lunch or something equally low key. Maybe then I could actually be a regular part of people's lives, and not just a foreign body that sends the occasional note and shows up for weddings and funerals.

But enough of that. This past week has been my time to decompress, and it has been wonderful. Just as wonderful as all the previous weekends, I think. I've come home from work each night and plopped down on the couch, book in hand. I've been lounging with the windows open (and we have huge windows; I really should take pictures of the apartment sometime), just enjoying the sound of the wind in the trees. Occasionally glancing up at the slowly-darkening blue sky, catching the odd glimpse of a plane on its way somewhere else. Listening to my neighbors as they fire up their grills.

I get my energy from quiet and stillness. That's why I vacation in large, silent spaces. That's why being in big groups for too long makes me short of breath. My evenings on the couch this week then, have been a heavenly pause. There are so many things I want to do this summer! We're going to Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July. We'll spend a couple weeks in Germany and Denmark come August. The World Cup just started. Manhattan and Brooklyn beckon (come... you haven't finished explooooooring usssss...). I want to spend more time in the Bronx. Can we fit in a hiking trip somewhere in New York State? Commotion, noise and movement promise to be constants. This past week of quiet has made me ready for them.

Memorial Day in Detroit

We had originally planned to go camping over Memorial Day weekend. I even checked out a library book at one point on hikes in Adirondack State Park. Back in March though, I was seized with sudden inspiration. A couple emails to my brother, a heads up to Oliver and it was settled: road trip to Detroit. My brother would drive from Milwaukee, we would drive from New York. Simple. Perfect.

As the weekend approached and I told people where I was going, I got a lot of quizzical looks. Detroit? On purpose? Yes, Detroit. On purpose. I've heard so much about the hard times it's going through. You hear about abandoned buildings, rampant unemployment. I wanted to see it for myself. What is it really like? What's an inaccurate stereotype, and what's real?

I can't say that I've got Detroit nailed down (I imagine it takes a little more than 2 days to do that), but I can say that I really enjoyed it. It's got a Midwest industrial feel to it that feels more "at home" to me than New York often does. It's got killer chili dogs. It has an incredible art museum - after 10 years as an art history buff, I finally got to see a Diego Rivera mural (below). 

It has a lively downtown, and great architecture. And yes, it has abandoned buildings. Lots of them. Some of them are surrounded by vacant lots. One building in particular really caught our attention: Michigan Central Station.

 Michigan Central Station was once a major railroad terminal. Today it is 18 stories of nothing. Completely abandoned and going to seed. Every inch of the inside is covered in graffiti, and scavengers have spent the last 20 years pulling out copper tubing, stair railings, and anything else that might have value.

And how do I know that every inch of the inside is covered in graffiti? That's right, my friend. Oliver, my brother and I snuck into the building. We found a piece of loose fencing, crawled under it, and ran for it. A few pictures to help you understand what it was like in there (and I apologize for the blurry ones: we only had a camera phone):

 The entrance, walking into the main hall. Such an amazing space.

 My brother and I walking through one of the many hallways. We had actually joined a "black ops" tour at this point - I'm not sure where these people came from, but the leader was a local guy who comes to the station all the time. He has done painstaking research, and could tell us what just about every room was used for. He has also been cited by the police several times for entering the building.

 A view out a stairwell window - to the bridge to Canada. 15th floor perhaps? No glass in the windows, of course.

 Top floor. The whole floor was one room with these enormous windows running along both sides. I can only imagine what it looked like in its heyday.

The view from the roof.