Maternity Photos

Our friend Sophie happens to be a professional photographer (Sophia Field Photography) who specializes in maternity photography (a.k.a. a great person to know when you're pregnant.)

Mark and I went to her studio back in September. (I'm so glad we didn't wait a few weeks longer for our session since, unbeknownst to us, bed rest was lurking just around the corner!) She did our hair (yes, Mark's, too), and then photographed us for several really fun hours in different poses and garb. She was even patient with my limited arsenal of facial poses (basically, I can smile or I can smile).

You may remember Sophie as the possessor of the sink I clogged with vomit back in August in the case of "Kathy, Puke Detective: Was it Morning Sickness or Food Poisoning?" (I think we all know by now it was food poisoning.) We had eaten at Little Star an hour before the fateful vomitous clogging, yet I didn't believe it was responsible for the food poisoning since food poisoning usually can be blamed on food consumed at least 6 hours before. The puke-tastic episode in August created what smelled, tasted, and looked like a deep dish pizza smoothie in Sophie's sink. That might slow some people down from eating at Little Star again a month later. But not me. We returned with Sophie for dinner there after the portrait session.

Anyway here are some of the photos from the maternity photo session. Sophie also took newborn portraits at the beginning of January which I plan to post soon.






We may have been Sophie's palest clients ever. Well, me anyway.

Scandalous!

A Day That Will Live in Twinfamy!

I've been away for awhile, but with good reason - the twins are here! Over two months ago they were born healthy at 35 weeks and 5 days. Here's the birth story:

But first...

I know everyone wants to know how big I was in the end. The answer? Huge. This was taken two days before the births.

Less than 12 hours before my water broke I enjoyed my gut shelf for the last time.

At 1:30 a.m. on December 7th (Pearl Harbor Day), I posted as my Facebook status message: "If the twins are born today it will be a day that will live in TWINFAMY!" Little did I know my water would break six hours later... (On one hand I would have liked for them to cook a little longer even though nearly 36 weeks for twins is pretty good; on the other hand I get to use "Day that will live in twinfamy" for the rest of their lives...)

I woke up at 7:45 a.m. feeling water gushing out of me.
"Mark, I think my water broke."
"Are you sure?"
[I sit up and water REALLY gushes out.]
"Yes."

Run! It's an amniotic fluid-nami!

I called the hospital and they said to come in within two hours and confirmed that I would be imminently giving birth.
"Mark, it looks like we're having some babies today."

Despite what you may think from watching TV, only 1/5 of births involve water breaking. Incidentally there were a lot of births that day at the hospital and a nurse said there are theories that it often happens on cold rainy days - like this one - because of the change in barometric pressure. Between the cold weather and the twins' most active kicking session ever the night before, it's no surprise my water broke.

After calling the hospital, I called my parents so they could start driving up from San Diego. By the way, when you call your parents at 8 a.m. when you're as pregnant as I was, they have a pretty good guess why you're calling. I then took a shower (while shaking from a combination of happy excitement and fear) and put on make-up. Some people find it weird that I put on make-up but I did have two hours to get to the hospital. All the while I was afraid I was leaving a trail of water breakage throughout the apartment, reminiscent of the dotted line in Family Circus.

Replace Kittycat with Kathy and her leaking bag of waters.

I already knew I'd be having a C-section since Twin A (the boy) flipped to the breach position a few weeks earlier. When we arrived at the hospital we were told a set of triplets was going to be delivered before our twins, but then our doctor came in a few minutes later and told us she had changed her mind. We were next! Suck it, triplets!

An hour and a half later I was wheeled into the operating room and given a spinal block. A curtain was stretched across my lower half and Mark sat next to my head. I could feel some pressure as the doctors cut me open, but no pain. Twin A (the boy) was taken out and a minute later Twin B (the girl) joined him. The doctors held each one up for us to see for an instant before weighing them and getting them ready (a.k.a. wiping off the placenta goo). Twin B was laid across my chest and that's when we met our baby girl. She was tiny and red and already in a little white cap and it was hard to believe I was finally meeting her.

James (I think) is born!

Here I am holding Julia moments after birth.

I was surprised we met the second-to-arrive twin first, but Twin A was grunting (a respiratory issue) so he joined us about 15 minutes later. (I later found out their Apgar scores for the first minute were a 4 for Twin A and a 9 for Twin B; both scored a 9 after five minutes.) Twin A stayed in the NICU the first two days until he stopped grunting, but I was generally very fortunate that neither baby was in the NICU longer, especially Twin B who was born so little and managed to escape the NICU altogether.


Mark with Julia and James just outside the delivery room.


I'm holding the twins with what appears to be a ridiculously oversized left hand.

Without further ado, meet...

James Benjamin Pilloff
5 lbs., 9 oz.
17.8 in. (45.1 cm)


James!

Julia Elizabeth Pilloff
4 lbs., 9 oz.
18.1 in. (46 cm)

(She's a pound lighter but a centimeter longer!)

Julia!

I think the previous picture of Julia resembles the Mother Teresa "Nun Bun."

My precious Julia and James and their giant diapers.

September San Diego Trip: Pickles & Belly Showdowns

Mark and I drove down to San Diego to visit my parents in early September (and yes, I'm finally getting around to writing about it now). My only mention of it so far, besides my recent post about my Jeopardy audition, was in showing a picture of my ridiculously swollen feet from the 8 hour drive. (Warning: the image in the link is truly disturbing. Also, the image must have been burned onto many retinas because I've received more questions about it than any other picture on my blog, with most people asking if my feet are still like that. Let me emphasize - my feet were only like this for two days.)

Anyway, I thought I'd finally get around to posting pictures of our adventures now.

Here's me belly to belly with my dad's friend, John. I'm not sure why I'm so eager to go belly to belly with everyone. By the way, those aren't granny panties I'm wearing but the pulled down belly panel of my maternity corduroys.

At my favorite deli, D.Z. Akin's, I decided that since I was preggers I should also pretend to have a manic desire to eat pickles.
(Thanks, Mom for the blouse!)

Mrs. Kathy talks to the twins, much like when Mrs. Mark promised them lots of cookies.

Do you remember this picture from Mr. and Mrs. Kathy's visit in mid-July?

Here's how the competition stacks up two months later. (And yes, the whiteness of my belly could blind people.)
I'm catching up to Mr. Kathy but I think he must have one more baby on me.

And I'm Back in the Hospital at 32 Weeks. Part II: Kathy vs. Beef Ragout, Mark vs. Curtains

The prognosis is pretty much the same now (the doctors think I'll make it to 34 weeks, maybe 35), but they think I'm stable enough to send home this weekend (a.k.a. right now). My bed rest will be a bit stricter than before (less standing, even more laying, and no occasional trips to restaurants). My doctors want me to start walking a little more each day to give me strength in advance of my going home. Right now just walking across the room is extremely tiring. The first night I left my room with Mark to take a walk I wore a hospital gown, a nursing gown as a coat (so I wouldn't flash anyone while wearing my hospital gown), and my "leg irons" (not plugged in) that cover my calves and keep me from having blood clots. (Wearing the "leg irons" reminded me of those movies where an escaped convict wears handcuffs even though the chain connecting them has been cut away.) Basically I looked like an escaped mental patient. My nurse hadn't gotten the "start walking around" memo from the doctor so she rushed over and told me I couldn't do this and I was supposed to be on bed rest.


My doctor wanted me to stand and walk around the hospital more so first order of business? Belly pics!

Previous belly pics

11/17 (33 weeks; Mark: 7 1/2 months; Kathy: 8 months)

Note: Mark thinks the months should follow the Gregorian calendar, and while I agree in theory, pregnant ladies seem to all go by a 4 week month culminating in a 10 month/40 week pregnancy. I'm including these numbers so you'll be able to compare me against other pregnant chicks.

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Guest rebuttal from Mark: Yeah, I think months should follow the Gregorian calendar. This is all my crazy fantasizing about how months should work and not, say, the accepted calendar of the near-entirety of the civilized world. I suppose when Kathy's in power, school children will learn the mnemonic:

Twenty-eight days hath September,
April, June, and November.
All the rest have twenty-eight,
except February, it has twenty-eight we find;
unless it's leap year, then it has twenty-eight

And by the way, who ever heard of a ten month pregnancy? In what species? Panda bears? Everyone knows the human gestational period is nine months. That's elementary school knowledge. The people on Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader? know this - even the adults!

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Speaking of doctors, twice during this stay I've met two doctors for the first time and had them say to me, "I know you were worried when you were here last time but there's nothing to worry about this time." This makes me think I must have some coded message across the top of my file. Perhaps "WW" for "worrywart"? Can any medical doctors confirm if this type of code exists?

A dietician came by with their full menu of meal options. This sounded great at first but only half the time do I actually get what I order. For instance when I ordered the bagel and cream cheese for breakfast one day I received a tray that was completely empty except for a couple packs of crackers and peanut butter. (Where's me breakfast? -Hospitalized Leprechaun) This time around, instead of Salisbury Steak, they're trying to get rid of something which looks equally unappetizing called Beef Ragout; like maybe they found an overturned Beef Ragout truck by the side of the highway. Several times they've pulled a Folger's switch and replaced my actual choices with this monstrosity. ("Let's see if she notices...")

This Beef Ragout looks decent. It's obviously not Kaiser's Beef Ragout.

Last time the best thing about being in the hospital was a visit by some therapy dogs and it wasn't until I got home that I realized I could have requested more visits. This time I requested frequent visits but it didn't go quite as well. Since I'm allergic I don't want to pet the dogs - and I can sense the owners thinking "Then, why I am here?" Also some of the dogs are tiny which just doesn't interest me. (Sorry, tiny dog lovers.) And lastly they come by when I'm alone (often when I'm sleeping) and then I have to make awkward small talk with the owners. So now I've requested that they visit only on weekends so that Mark can pet the dogs and there are two of us to engage the owners in awkward small talk.


Therapy golden retriever, Boston, and me. (You may recognize my leg irons from my last hospital stay.)


Boston close-up. Wait, what's on his harness?

Boston's Kaiser badge!

Meanwhile, Mark wages war against the curtain in my room... and loses.


Mark walks into the curtain Blair Witch style.
As Suzanne Vega sang in Luka, "Yes I think I'm okay. I walked into the curtain again."

No pictures please.

Mark "Houdinis" his way out.

Yeah, I got stuck in a curtain. Jealous?

My Mom Keeps Calling Me Violet Beauregarde with Good Reason

She says I need to be juiced!

Instead of the delivery room she thinks I should have Oompa Loompas take me to Wonka's juicing room. (Oompa Loompas: No creepier than zombie gynecologist.)

Maybe it's because I now look like this:

Left: 9/29 (25 weeks; Mark: 5 3/4 months; Kathy: 6 months)
Right: 10/18 (28 weeks; Mark: 6 1/2 months; Kathy:6 3/4 months)

Note: Mark thinks the months should follow the Gregorian calendar, and while I agree in theory, pregnant ladies seem to all go by a 4 week month culminating in a 10 month/40 week pregnancy. I'm including these numbers so you'll be able to compare me against other pregnant chicks.

There are three weeks between the pictures above instead of two like I did before because I was in the hospital. I learned my lesson and after that started taking photos once a week (instead of once every two) because you never know...

Left:10/24 (29 weeks; Mark: 6 3/4 months; Kathy:7 months)
Right: 11/01 (30 weeks; Mark: 7 months; Kathy: 7 1/4 months)

And the latest. Drumroll please...

...

...

...

11/07 (31 weeks; Mark: 7 months; Kathy: 7 1/2 months)

Here's me in August and September.

Here's me in June and July.

At my last appointment zombie gynecologist measured my belly and said I was at term size... if I was carrying one baby.

When it Rains it Pours... Babies

Remember how all my friends seemed to have babies in July? Well there's been a new crop of them in October. My little ones tried to join them it seems but thankfully they decided to cook awhile longer.

First came the daughter of Sean and "Kate Ran" (I have two friends named Kate R. and this is to distinguish them - "Ran" is an abbreviation of her last name). She was born 9/28, but close enough to October to count. Her name is Zada Kathrene Day Smith. Kathrene and Day are the grandmothers' middle names.

Kate Ran and I look like we have the same belly size here on 9/5, but she gave birth at the end of the month. Meanwhile my due date wasn't for 3 more months!

My friend Lila told me the baby's name via Gmail chat and suggested I guess it Lingo style. Lingo is a game show hosted by everyone's favorite Love Connector, Chuck Woolery. You try to guess a word like a sequence of colors in the game Mastermind.

Remember Mastermind? Lingo is like it but with words.

The word they are trying to guess here in this game of Lingo is "balls." If you guess a word with a letter that's in the word and in the correct space you get an orange square. Correct letter but incorrect placement yields a yellow circle.

Lila's only clue was that the name last appeared in the top 1,000 list for popularity in 1880. Here's my sequence of guesses.:
LENA
CORA
VITA
GASA
MAYA
YAYA
PAMA
JAWA
JFDB
HADA
ZADA

(I was getting desperate to rule letters out when I tried the "name" JFDB.)

So yes, the answer was Zada (pronounced "zay-duh"). The name has grown on me a lot from when I thought it rhymed with "sad a." I think it works well with the last name Smith.

For a brief period of time the grandparents thought the name was Zeba because they misheard it on the phone.

My co-worker Julia had her second child, a boy named Dorian, on 10/1. It was her first day of maternity leave and she had him that morning at 11:30 a.m. At least she'll get to use those weeks off after the baby is born.

Here we are face to face... a couple of pregnant ladies. (to the Silver Spoons theme song)
This was taken 9/17, two weeks before Julia gave birth.

And finally, high school friend and wedding bridesmaid Candice and husband Steve (a.k.a. Dataknife) welcomed a daughter on 10/14, the day after I got home from the hospital. Candice went into labor and checked into the hospital on a Monday and give birth to 8 lb, 9 oz. Nora Rosalie on a Wednesday. Candice had one of the worst pregnancies I've heard of with severe nausea and all that accompanies it throughout (not just the first trimester), capped off by a long labor and an unexpected c-section.

This was taken on 9/11 when Candice had just reached 37 weeks - full term. If you look closely you'll notice I'm wearing heels. (I know it's bad but practically all my non-tennis shoes are heels. I looked for something less heel-y to no avail. Now I wear flip flops.)

Rosemary's... er, Candice's baby.

Mark, 7 Months Pregnant

I made Mark try on the padded 7 month belly at A Pea in the Pod.


As you can tell, he's thrilled.


Mark and his new beer belly.

At the beginning of my 7th month I was much bigger than this! In fact I was bigger than that at the beginning of my fifth month. I scoff at you single pregnancies!

Here's me about one week into my 5th month.