Ask Chaviva Anything: How Can I Get a Heter To Stop Having Kids in Judaism?

I received an interesting Ask Chaviva Anything submission in September that has been on my mind since it popped into my inbox. I've been tossing around how to answer it for ages and I'm still not 100% positive that I know how to answer it but I feel like I have to try. 

Here's the question:

How did you manage to get a heter (Rabbinic permission) to stop having children after only 3? I'm a convert to orthodox Judaism too and even after 6 kids I can't get a break. Sorry if it's too personal a question, you obviously don't have to answer.

So, before I can answer this question, let's talk a bit about the commandment (mitzvah) to have children in Judaism. The origin of this mitzvah comes from two verses in Torah:

"And G‑d created man in His image; in the image of G‑d He created him; male and female He created them. And G‑d blessed them, and G‑d said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth." (Bereishit/Genesis 1:27-28) 

Later on, after the flood when everyone leaves the Ark, the Torah says:

“And you, be fruitful and multiply (known as periya u-rviya); swarm upon the earth and multiply thereon.” (Bereishit/Genesis 9:7)

There are many discussions around why this mitzvah is repeated, but we won't get into that here. In the Talmud, there are deep discussions around the age of marriage and when the mitzvah to procreate should be fulfilled, but we also won't get into that here. Interestingly, the commandment to bear children only applies to men, not to women, but without a woman, it's a bit of a non-starter so we also won't get into that here. 

Let's look at the requirements around the volume of children a Jew is obligated to have according to the Talmud. 

In the Mishnah (aka the Oral Torah), there are two opinions coming from the houses of Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel. Those who are familiar will note that we typically hold by the rulings of Beit Hillel, but not always. In this discussion in Mishnah Yevamot 61b, Beit Shammai says that one is required to bear two male children, and Beit Hillel says one is required to bear one male child and one female child.

In Shulchan Aruch Even Hoezer 1:5, Beit Hillel's approach wins the day. If you've had one male and one female child, you've fulfilled the Biblical command to procreate. Mazal tov!

So why are there people who don't stop at two or have a dozen kids of all genders anyway? This originates in rabbinic texts and understandings, particularly la-erev, which means to continue having kids even after you've hit your Biblical requirement. It originates in this verse

“In the morning sow your seed, and in the evening [la-erev] do not desist.” (Ecclesiastes 11:6)

Although some rabbinic authorities say that la-erev is obligatory, others do not see it as a strict requirement. 

Ultimately, although Jewish law strongly encourages large families, contraception is permitted! In fact, it's even required in certain situations. There are many instances in which birth control is permitted. The founding rabbinic adviser of Nishmat, for example, ruled the following:

Rav Henkin z”l generally permitted a couple that had already fulfilled the mitzvah of piryah v’rivyah (the Torah commandment to be fruitful and multiply) and had compelling reasons not to have more children (e.g., concerns about the woman’s health, finances, or shalom bayit), to practice contraception indefinitely. (B’nei Banim II:38)

So, it's important to do two things:

• Study the halachot (laws) with your spouse so you know what the reality is
• Speak with a rabbi you trust who understands you, your family dynamic, and your needs

Obviously, you can't shop around for a rabbi who will tell you what you want, but not all rabbis are deeply knowledgeable on every single aspect of the laws of family and family planning. It's crucial to find a rabbi who knows the laws inside and out and that will truly listen to your needs. 

If the problem is with your spouse (i.e., you want to stop having kids for whatever reason and your spouse refuses), then you need to have some very hard conversations with a rabbi and perhaps a therapist you trust to work through those. 

Thus we arrive back at the original question. My answer? I didn't get a heter to stop having kids. I had a boy and then a girl and my third child was the bonus! You don't need to get a heter to stop having kids. Ultimately the decision is between you, your spouse, and HaShem. For us, it was an issue of shalom bayit and finances. 

I'm sorry you're feeling trapped and like you have to keep having kids despite being done having children. You can gain guidance and advice from your rabbi, but if you're being told you must keep having kids, then I advise you to seek guidance from someone you trust or to reach out to Nishmat for help. 

Do you have a question for me about Judaism? Life in Israel? Something else? Submit it to Ask Chaviva Anything! Also, don't forget to follow me on Instagram, where I am much more active these days!

Pregnant and Playing Powerball

I'll admit it, I played the Powerball over the weekend and I'm probably going to play it again. I actually walked into the 7-11 last week, looked the woman working the counter square in the eyes, and said, "I've never done this before, can you help me?" I'm a 32-year-old woman who doesn't know how to gamble.

This might not seem strange to 99 percent of you, but if you knew that my father has loved the lottery every day of my life, would that change things? I remember my dad's 40th birthday -- we got him these little bouquets of 40 scratch-off tickets. He's always played the Powerball, too, so I feel like I should have just known how it worked since I watched him play it so many times, choosing our birthdays as the numbers. But I blanked. The woman looked at me like I was nuts, too, which just made the experience all the more awesome. I had $2 in my pocketbook, so it was perfect. 

Did I win anything? Nope. 

Will I play again this week? Why not? 

After finding out just how much it's going to cost me to put both of my children in daycare in the coming year, I either have to win the lottery or cut food completely out of our diet. So, here's hoping HaShem is down with the Gordon-Bennetts this week. 

The funny thing is, this is the reality:

• I have amazing earning potential in the U.S., and with my current work, I make a really good amount of money. But daycare and rent in the U.S. are murder.
• In Israel, daycare is crazy cheap (rent is still murder), but I have basically zero earning potential. 

So. There's that. Mr. T, too, is sort of in the same boat. His credentials don't transfer here, so despite the fact that electricians make a killing in the U.S., he can't work legally as a master electrician, so he's relegated to hourly jobs. We're also reaching a point where he wants to transition to something that isn't so hands on (too many bad bruises and injuries), but the question is: What? 

I probably wouldn't be so obsessed with budgeting and figuring out how to win $1 billion if I didn't have another parasite on the way. Oy! Why does daycare have to be so expensive, 'Merica? 

Note: From everything I learned, prior to purchasing a ticket, it's completely okay in Judaism to purchase one ticket, and one ticket only, and many say you shouldn't pick your own numbers, lest it suggest you're questioning the fact that HaShem runs the universe. So there you go. 

Have a question? Just ask: http://bit.ly/AskChavivaAnything

Giving Birth: Israel versus the U.S.

Last week, on December 17, Mr. T and I headed to St. Joseph's for a tour of the Center for Women and Infants. Oddly enough, exactly two years earlier, we visited Hadassah Ein Kerem for the first time because my water had broken and I was in labor with Asher. Two days later, he was born at 5:46 a.m. IST, and, if you recall, the entire labor and delivery and recovery experience was one of the most traumatic of my entire life ...

Part 1: The Labor

Part 2: The Recovery

So, imagine my nervousness and anxiety at visiting St. Joe's for the first time. So far, this pregnancy has been really difficult with endless bouts of nausea and exhaustion. Compare this with Asher, who was as chill as could be in the womb giving me no nausea and not killing my level of energy. I keep telling myself that a rough pregnancy will hopefully prove the opposite in the labor/delivery/recovery realm and I'll have a cakewalk experience. VBAC with no trouble, quick recovery, no drama, no trauma.

When we got to the hospital (and, mind you, my only hospital stay was with Asher and every other extended hospital visit I've ever experienced was visiting a family member or friend), I was blown away at how clean, bright, and warm the space was. At St. Joe's there's a completely separate elevator that takes you straight to the Center for Women and Infants ... to guarantee you go exactly where you need to go quickly.

On the fourth floor of the hospital, everything is done: labor, delivery, recovery, c-sections, you name it. They have separate spaces for any procedure or process involved in the birthing process, so you don't have to be shoved on an elevator and shipped somewhere else (*cough* HEK took me from wing to wing and floor to floor *cough*). The space is open, clean, airy, and the rooms are huge with lots of space, gigantic bathtubs ... you name it. But here, watch this video, it will provide a better explanation than I can:


Now before you go all "oh my gosh people gave birth standing in a wooden shanty for thousands of years, why do you need such a fancy space," let me tell you something ... after experiencing what I can only describe as third world care and attention and a commitment to mother/baby/family at HEK in Israel, I want all the bells and whistles the world has to offer because I think I've earned it. Beyond the nice space (not having to share it with another woman and her gigantic Moroccan family) and the fact that visiting hours are 24/7 so my husband doesn't have to be thrown into some cold, cavernous space without a blanket to sleep overnight, their attention to making sure mom and baby are together as much as possible as quickly as possible sings to me.

When I was in Israel, everywhere we were -- from hospital to the baby hotel -- nurses and caretakers treated me like I was insane because I wanted to have my baby in my room with me. They kept trying to take Ash away to put him in the nursery full of screaming babies, and I was flabbergasted. Telling this to our tour guide at St. Joe's, I was met with a response that they encourage and provide rooming in for baby as much as the mother wants. In the laboring suite, they even have the measuring equipment and all the initial testing stuff built into the room so that your baby doesn't have to leave the immediate vicinity. Also, in the laboring suite I was in at HEK, I had to walk down he hall to go to the bathroom ... no toilet in the room. Terrible.

Sigh of relief. And the food? It comes from the local kosher deli (where my husband works, where they know me, where they know how to produce gluten-free food that tastes good).

After being rolled into a general recovery area full of people vomiting and coughing in Israel and not getting to see my baby for the first six hours of his life, color me stoked at the chance to have this baby nearby immediately -- even in the case of a c-section, they do skin-to-skin contact immediately, and so much more.

I know I've only been on a tour, and what happens when I give birth will definitely provide a better compare/contrast situation when it comes to what I experienced in Israel versus what I'll experience in the U.S., but after meeting with the tour guide and seeing the facilities, I have no doubt in my mind which experience will be more mother/baby-centered and where the attention to family and wellness are emphasized.

As someone pointed out to me, in Israel, the process is routine, in America people want "fan fare." I don't want fan fare, I just want to see my baby immediately, be in a clean facility with privacy and the ability to bond with my child with my husband and other child at our side, with the ability to use my own bathroom and take a shower in private. This hospital saw 4,400 births last year. I'd say that they've got routine down pretty well.

I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but I can't begin to describe how anxiety-inducing the memories of being at HEK and giving birth were ... I spent months recovering from the c-section, months where doctors should have done things differently to move the healing process of my c-section scar along more efficiently, but the Israeli healthcare system, as good as it is, doesn't always do routine as well as it does trauma and life-threatening crises care. (In my humble opinion.)

So we'll see what happens. My little trauma-inducing baby is now two years old, and as beautiful as can be. He's lively, has an attitude only a mother can love, and he's creative beyond his years. He's obsessed with dinosaurs, loves cooking in his play kitchen (he frequently makes cake and challah), and he loves drawing and creating art. I love him more than words, and I can't wait for another little person to join the family. I just hope this time around, I feel like I'm a vital part of the experience, too.

Have you given birth in the U.S. + another country? What was the experience like?

Have a question? Just ask: http://bit.ly/AskChavivaAnything

An Announcement!

I'm pretty sure this stuff isn't kosher, but I can guarantee that what I'm cooking up definitely is. Here's hoping we didn't use all the cute juice on Asher, right?

BAM!

Part 2: Recovering

Angel.

Note: The recovery time in-hospital for c-sections in Israel is 4+ days, instead of the usual 2-3. 

Thursday: After the labor, I was shuffled on a stretcher, shivering from the meds and unable to move my legs, through corridor after corridor to a different building to the "recovery" room. I had assumed when they told me I was going to recovery that it meant a maternity ward recovery, but where I ended up was something along the lines of general surgical recovery. The man next to me was vomiting or spitting something up every five minutes, the two women across from me were bruised and tied up to machines, and the recovery area got more and more full over the next five hours that I laid there, unable to move, crying, scared, and frustrated.

Mr. T made sure I was settled and then went upstairs to the nursery to see the baby, to make sure he was okay and to see what the situation was. Left alone, nurses came and changed various things in the most aggressive way possible, rolling me on my side with a quick shove, without telling me what was happening. The pain was unbearable, and one of the nurses said she'd make sure I was kept on medication, which turned out to be an empty promise because hours later I'd asked three different women for medication and crying uncontrollably not a one came back with anything for me. When Mr. T returned he was swiftly kicked out because the doctors were making rounds and, evidently, guests aren't allowed in the room when this is happening. The security guard threatened him for standing outside the door, poised to come back in, instead of in some special waiting area. Later the same thing happened and with the security guard standing at the end of my bed yelling at my husband to leave I shouted "Gever, gever, b'vakasha ..." trying to get his attention to explain the situation.

He didn't even have the decency to turn and look at the crying woman in the hospital bed. He just scowled and yelled at my husband more.

You see, with my first ever hospital stay, my first surgery, my first birth, I was both in shock, incredibly emotionally exhausted, and scared beyond anything I can describe. Left alone those minutes in the recovery room to my own thoughts and devices I cried. I didn't want to be alone. I shouldn't have been alone. Mr. T knew that, and he went to great lengths to make sure he was there for me.

After he'd gone up to the nursery, in fact, he came back with a little plastic cup.

"Don't lose this," he said. "It's very important."

The little cup was meant for me to express in, so that when my newborn baby was ready, he could eat. They told Mr. T they needed it back by noon to feed the baby, and as the hours ticked on and I clutched that little plastic cup having zero clue how to express on my own, Mr. T grew frustrated and I grew more depressed.

After speaking with countless nurses and doctors, after waiting hours, Mr. T finally went to the maternity ward and demanded they make space for me. Put me in the hallway, anything, just to get me nearer to my son so that when he's ready to eat, I'm there. I tweeted, I Facebooked, I wanted someone, anyone to help me. (Oh, and Hadassah.org responded, hours later.)

Eventually, five hours after I'd been sitting in recovery and nearly six hours after I'd last seen my baby, we were moved onto the maternity ward, me still clutching the little plastic cup.

Mr. T went to the nursery asking them to please bring the baby to see his mother, and a nurse rolled him in to us saying "Five minutes, I'll be back in five minutes." He was on a monitor because of concerns about his breathing, but from the looks of him, he was calm, breathing, content, exhausted. I put my finger near his face and he grabbed it firmly -- my baby's first attempt at reaching out to mom. For the first time in days I felt relaxed. This was my baby, he was okay, things were going to be good.

The woman spared no seconds, returning the baby to the nursery and setting me on the journey to recovery. Nurse after nurse would come in over the next few days taking temperatures and blood pressure at all hours of the day (why they need to take these measurements at midnight when I'm sleeping is beyond me), another nurse to deliver medication, another to teach me how to express (telling me that most c-section moms can't express so quickly -- so there's a triumph), another to explain how to breast feed, another to check the catheter, another to bring me food so I can take the higher-dose medication, and yet another to stand outside the door while I sat in a white plastic chair, shivering, attempting to shower for the first time in nearly two days.

The food they served on the ward floor consisted of cheese, more cheese, hardboiled eggs, and more cheese. Oh, and chocolate pudding. The hot food was gluten-filled, ranging from shnitzel to quiche. After the birth my appetite disintegrated and I still don't have it back. I lost more than 14 pounds over the pregnancy and birth, and I find myself only eating when I know I'm supposed to. In the hospital Mr. T grew more and more frustrated with the food options -- for someone who was lactose intolerant pre-pregnancy and because they suggest avoiding mass quantities of dairy if you're breastfeeding because of baby sensitivity.

The real kicker came one of the first night after the birth when around 12:30 in the morning, with me, the baby, and Mr. T all asleep someone came in to take my temperature and woke all of us up to take the baby back to the nursery. We had no idea that the baby couldn't stay with us in the room, especially because it didn't make sense with a breastfeeding mom to have the baby down the hall when mom (that's me) wasn't incredibly mobile. Was I expected to get up at 3 in the morning and schlep down the hall to feed? Why couldn't they leave the baby with me?

That night I believe I spent five hours straight nursing the baby in a room adjacent to the nursery, which was filled with screaming children whose mothers, I assume, were relying on formula and getting a quality night's sleep. I sat and nursed and nursed and nursed and nursed and only when it was okay for me to roll the baby back to our room did I set him down and return to my room where Mr. T was sleeping.

Did I mention husbands were technically supposed to sleep in the rooms and that there is nowhere else in the hospital for them to sleep except on Shabbat? Yeah ... there's that. Israeli hospitals are not husband friendly. I guess the assumption is that post-birth moms just want to shove their babies off into the nursery and for husbands to go home and take care of the other kids and leave mom alone for the next three days or so. On Shabbat, dads can sleep in the synagogue on cots that are setup and there are options for meals, too. The rest of the time, dads can't eat the food served on the ward and if you're caught sleeping in the room, depending on the nurse, you'll be booted.

Saturday: After a few days on this particular floor, we complained about the food, not being able to have our baby in the room, and other things and we were moved up to a different floor that allowed the baby to room-in, but most definitely did not let Mr. T sleep in the room overnight. But we were content to have the baby in the room with us after two nights without him and me schlepping around to feed him down the hall.

This night was the the worst night in the hospital for me. I was frazzled already from exhaustion and still reeling from the pain of surgery and everything happening with my baby. Around 12:30 in the morning, as I sat in bed feeding a fairly fussy baby, an older, fanny-pack toting nurse came in to (once again) take my blood pressure and temperature. The conversation went something like this:

"What are you doing? Who taught you to feed like that?" the nurse said.
"What do you mean? A nurse on floor B. I've fed him like this for two days just fine. He's fussy. It's fine. We're fine," I responded.
"No, you can't feed him like that," she said as she came over and pulled the baby out of my arms as he screamed and I started to cry.

She proceeded to tell me a variety of "problems" with my breasts and why the baby isn't feeding right, as I sat bawling and the baby screamed. Another nurse came in and asked what was going on. The fanny-pack toting nurse told her I wasn't feeding my baby right and that's why he was crying and that there were problems with my breasts. The younger nurse came over and investigated (me, still bawling as I was being manhandled and my baby was starving) and said things were fine. The older nurse tried to get me to use this ridiculous device to feed the baby and the younger nurse assertively told her to lay off. The older nurse backed off and watched as the younger nurse helped me get the baby to latch. He calmed down, he fed, she told me it would be okay.

I spent the rest of the night feeding the baby and feeding the baby and crying on and off. Inevitably the younger nurse suggested we top him off with a formula bottle, and against my better judgment we did. I was exhausted and wanted to sleep. So she took the baby, said she'd feed him, and then burp him because he was gassy. Around 4:30 in the morning -- me asleep -- she wheeled him into my room, said he was fine and had been asleep for a while.

In the morning, before she left for the day, she came in to check on the baby and (having explained everything to Mr. T), we both thanked her again and again for her help and kindness. Her name? Chana. Truth be told, she was the only nurse with a sense of empathy that we came across during our time at Hadassah Ein Kerem.

Sunday-Tuesday: After speaking with the head nurse about everything, it was decided that we were going to be moved over to the Hadassah Baby hotel next door to chill out, relax, and get out of the hospital. We waited until nearly three in the afternoon, but we were moved over to the hotel and given two free nights (for me and baby -- husbands, of course, have to pay). The benefits of the hotel? Baby in the room, quality food options with a chef who was willing to make me gluten-free nosh (I had my first real meal in nearly a week thanks to some stir-fried veggies and tofu). With a giant comfortable bed, a nice shower, privacy, and no nurses checking my blood pressure every five seconds, things looked good.

Then, that evening, I began to have intense pain on my right side under my rib cage. We thought maybe I'd bruised or broken a rib in the process of the birth, but this was the first I was experiencing of the pain. We pushed the baby into the nursery and explained the situation, to which the nurses in the hotel said it was the after-effects of the c-section. They put me back on pain meds, and I proceeded to be med-loading every four to five hours for the next two weeks (I'm still taking ibuprofen nearly every night to calm the pain of what I think is a seroma behind my scar, but a visit to the ER last week had the on-call gyno saying that it wasn't a seroma, so who knows).

On Tuesday, after a week of being away from home, moved between six different hospital rooms, 45 hours of labor, having an unplanned surgery, having my baby forcibly removed from my arms several times, and being scolded for how I was feeding my child ... we went home. I was immediately more relaxed being in my own space. Without the eyes of nurses watching over me and the concern of eating enough to provide enough for my baby, I was in the comfort of familiar surroundings. And here I've been for the past three weeks.

These three weeks have been emotional and exhausting. They've involved a half-dozen trips to the nurse in Efrat to get my surgical staples removed, to check on my scar, which so nicely decided to open and cause problems, and a visit to the ER for the same reason. Luckily, we're getting into patterns with sleep and feeding, and having Mr. T at home every day has been helpful. With the baby attached 24/7 because, let's be honest he's at the age of Mommy = comfort, having someone to make food, do laundry, change diapers, and keep the house presentable while I feed and work is a huge blessing. Today I made my first solo outing to the grocery store, leaving a sleeping baby at home with the husband and it went fairly well, despite the cart falling over and the overly heavy bags being hard on my body to lift. Who would have thought a grocery trip could take it all out of me?

I guess this concludes the drama of my birthing and recovery story. I'm still recovering. There are a lot of things that I'm unable to do because of the pain and the possible whatever/seroma that's living in my body. I'm loving having lost more than 14 pounds because, hey, I look good, but not being able to lift things, bend over, reach things on high counters has me feeling a bit feeble and helpless. It's frustrating, but I'm working on it.

I didn't think we'd get to three weeks last month, but baruch ha'Shem, we're doing good. The baby has peed on me more than a dozen times (why is my instinct to cup my hand to stop the pee instead of folding the diaper up?) and decided to poo on me mid-diaper change several times, too. I've become a master of Googling baby-related things (seriously, how are some of these things even Googleable?!), and I've come to terms with the age of my baby necessitating 24/7 attachment.

Now to get tatty to understand that crying baby means baby needs something from mommy, not that tatty isn't cool.

Read Part 1 here.

It's a boy!

Say hello to ...

After more than 43 hours of labor resulting in a fairly traumatizing emergency c-section (story forthcoming), we were blessed the the most beautiful little boy weighing 7.5 pounds at nearly 6 am on Thursday, December 19. 

We have been on hospital property since Tuesday the 17th and will be going home officially today or tomorrow. 

Aside from regular baby-having exhaustion, the unexpected labor and pregnancy have done a number on me physically. (I'm learning to not push myself, which for me is next to impossible, but if I don't I'll be back in hospital.)

Stay tuned for the full Megillah. But give me time. I have a beautiful baby on my hands :)

(If all goes well, the Bris will be Thursday! Until then you won't hear the baby's name.)

Jewish Motherhood: The Copycat Pregnancies

Today's Jewish Motherhood Project mommy lives in America, was married at 26, and had her first baby at 28. If you want to participate in The Jewish Motherhood Project, the hop over to the Q&A! Also, I'm looking for more words of advice from first-time (and seasoned) fathers.

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Did you always want to be a mommy? Why or why not?
Just always assumed I would be.

What was your greatest fear when you found out you were pregnant? What was your greatest anticipation/excited feeling?
Greatest fear: something being terribly wrong with the baby. Greatest anticipation: seeing him for the first time.

How did your husband/partner and family react to you being preggo?
Thrilled. The baby was the first grandchild on both sides.

What was your pregnancy like?
My husband says I "conveniently" forget each time, but I would say relatively easy. I've been blessed with three beautiful children. (However, I had a second-trimester miscarriage with my third pregnancy and an ectopic pregnancy the fifth pregnancy.) One minor complaint was that I had borderline gestational diabetes, and they put me on a very low carb and no sugar diet. I was always hungry.

How did you decide to start telling people you were preggo? Did you wait to reveal the gender?
We waited until the end of the first trimester, but we told our parents as soon as we saw the heartbeat. We found out the gender every pregnancy, definitely my idea and not my husbands. We kept this to ourselves (though I might have "accidentally" dropped a hint or two to my mom and my best friend).

How did the pregnancy affect your work, schooling, or family?
I induced on a Monday for my first pregnancy and was still in work on Friday, just three days before. I was working full-time and did a fellowship.

In the days and weeks leading up to the birth, what do you remember experiencing or feeling?
For the first one, shock and disbelief and it was very much a planned pregnancy! I never held a baby before my son. I didn't think it was real.

How did you infuse your Jewishness into the pregnancy/labor experience?
Other than my own silent prayer when lighting Shabbat candles, I only turned to Judaism when things started to go terribly wrong. (Only infused plenty of drugs into the labor experience and it was wonderful.)

If you’ve had more children since your first, how were the experiences different? Were you more or less prepared? Was it harder or easier?
Each pregnancy was fairly similar. As for prepared, I never took a birthing class, electively induced, and even picked the day well in advance.

My first two even weighed within one ounce of one another (the third was about 5 ounces less). All the deliveries were similar, too. The second was "sunny-side up," but still very quick and easy (I'm almost afraid to say it, but all three were under four hours). I was much more relaxed with the second two deliveries knowing more or less what to expect.

What would be your three top tips for a first-time mother?

1. Don’t obsessively read pregnancy books or obsessively look symptoms up online. It will make you crazy.
2. Develop a birth plan that you (and your doctor) are comfortable with. You don’t need to make other people happy.
3. Don’t share possible names with family members because you will get opinions.

Is there anything else you want to add?
Take a trip together now. Maybe one more before your baby can walk. After that, good luck!

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Chavi's commentary: I couldn't agree more about the obsessively reading pregnancy books bit. Although I was hardcore jonesing for "What to Expect When You're Expecting," and although Mr. T searched near and far for it to get it for me, I couldn't help but feel like every page I read was another warning of something horrible that was happening. This is why when it comes to baby/pregnancy books I stick to things like The Pregnancy Instruction Manual and The Baby Owner's Manual, because they're hilarious and practical.  I really wish that we could take a trip together before the baby shows up, but I think we've passed our window of opportunity, unless I can convince the mister to drive north to check out a chocolate factory or something fun like that. Here's hoping!

Jewish Motherhood: What Have We Done?

After an ever-so-brief hiatus, The Jewish Motherhood Project continues with a 27-year-old expectant mother who finished her degree before getting married and, after 3.5 years of marriage and aliyah (moving to Israel), decided to try for a baby. Here's wishing her a b'sha'ah tovah (it's what you say to a pregnant Jewish woman)!

If you want to participate, just hop over to the Q&A and get started. If you have a husband who has advice, please let me know, too. We need more fatherly takes on the first-time around!

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Did you always want to be a mommy? Why or why not? 
Yes and no. I definitely did not want to be a young mum. I'm the oldest child of five, and my parents are divorced. I felt a lot of responsibility to my siblings growing up and wanted my own freedom for a bit. I only wanted to have a child when I was ready.

What was your greatest fear when you found out you were pregnant? What was your greatest anticipation/excited feeling?
Greatest fear: What have we done?? Are we ready? Can we afford a baby? We just made aliya, is this the right time? Will I be a good mother? Will I have enough patience?

How did your husband/partner and family react to you being preggo?
Everyone was very excited! As the first grandchild on both sides, the baby was very much anticipated.

What was your pregnancy like? 
So far, thank G-d, going well. Pretty textbook. I felt sick in the first trimester, but nothing unusual.

Our biggest "test" was that my husband has/had commitment phobia and didn't want to try for a baby for a long long time. It is only recently that he felt ready, which was very stressful for me as I was probably ready 1.5 years ago and was waiting for him. I used to get very upset when our friends were pregnant and had babies. Looking back, everything happens in the right time. However, it did place a strain on our relationship.

How did you decide to start telling people you were preggo? Did you wait to reveal the gender?
We told our parents at six weeks and everyone else at 12 weeks. We have found out the gender, but we're not announcing it. We're also still deciding on a name ... a difficult process!

How did the pregnancy affect your work, schooling, or family?
Pregnancy has definitely affected my work. I'm so tired so its hard to keep up. I work as a freelancer so obviously worried about taking off too much time for maternity leave and worried about juggling new baby and work as I will have to go back as we need the money...

In the days and weeks leading up to the birth, what do you remember experiencing or feeling?
Not quite there yet; I'm only 24 weeks. However I am feeling anxious about the birth. I feel torn between wanting to shop like crazy for the baby versus not buying anything because its ayin hara.

How did you infuse your Jewishness into the pregnancy/labor experience?
I've been reading blogs and books. I am not so spiritual in general, but I feel very blessed to have the miracle of a baby growing inside of me.

Any advice from dad to other dads?
Can other dads please give advice to new dads? I feel like my husband has NO idea what is going to hit him when the baby is born even though I have been trying to get him to read books, talk about it, etc.

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Chavi's commentary: I'm really glad this expectant mum decided to participate! I think that she and I are in the same boat as far as work, major fears, and energy levels, although having to cope with a partner who isn't necessarily ready to conceive must have been quite difficult. In my first marriage children weren't even a conversation (B"H), and in this marriage we were pregnant before we could even think about it. It is a hard balance trying to work amid the exhaustion, especially knowing that after the baby comes you'll have to hit the bricks and get back to work quickly to help support the family. Israel is definitely not a single-family-income kind of place to live by any means.

Also: I haven't had many people respond with advice from dad to other dads, so I might have to sit Mr. T down and get his tips, as he has a 10 year old and is seriously amazing with children. Stay tuned!

The Baby Update!

Well, we've entered week 35, which means I'm only a few weeks away from this baby deciding to show up whenever he/she wants. Yes, we know what we're having, but it's going to be a gigantic surprise for all of you out there in TV land! (Er ... internet land?)

Infinite Chavivas in the mirror! 

I've hit hard times in the physical department, with the Braxton-Hicks contractions doing a serious number on me. I'm sleeping worse than I was before because my body is constantly in some kind of bizarre stiff pain. Theoretically I'm due on December 11, which means I could have one long month of pain, discomfort, and frustrating gastrointestinal pain. But it's all worth it, right? It means my body is doing what it needs to and that my body is in preparation mode.

At this point, the nice thing to know is: The end is nigh! There is an end in sight.

I've hit a point where I'm starting to really love these baby movements and the waves of my belly. I love shoving the baby's bum out of the way when it's making me uncomfortable or how the baby gets really active in the early evening hours. (As I write this, baby is moving about. Is it because of the tapping on the keys? Criminal Minds playing in the background? Or maybe it's the construction going on next door.) I'm starting to wonder how I'm going to cope with missing this cutie in utero once baby arrives. Do women who love the kicks and nudges and movements easily get over missing those movements?

Pre-Shabbat, it's Redefining Rebbetzin's Melissa and I

sporting our baby bumps! These kids'll be friends for life. 

As the due date sits just a month away, I've started wondering if we have everything we need for a new baby. Yes, we've got the carseat and a changing pad and a mini pack-and-play style bed for the bedroom. We've got some outfits to get us started and a swaddler/sleeper for baby to sleep in. I'm still on the fence about whether to start out with cloth diapers or start out with disposables until we get to the U.S. in February (parents have to meet the baby sometime), so we're diaperless. Do I need babywipes for when the baby comes home? What about bottles? I don't have a breast pump for those "just in case" moments when maybe dad wants to feed baby, either.

I know they say babies don't need much, and we don't have any money sitting around to prepare for baby, so how is a girl supposed to nest!? The bedroom is a mess, serving as storage, and although the baby won't be sleeping there right away, it kind of kills me that there isn't a space for baby setup and waiting. I always dreamed of having a baby room complete with crib and dresser/changing table set, walls properly painted, clothing nicely folded and put away, a glider chair in the corner for nursing and reading baby books. I know I shouldn't feel like I'm a neglectful mother, but I can't help feeling that this isn't how I planned it.

But what can you do? As long as the baby is healthy, the baby will be happy. Now, on to happier, brighter, better topics.

There have been many of you who've asked for a baby shower or something similar, a virtual celebration of baby, but it's not exactly what Orthodox Jews do (and boy do Orthodox Jews have opinions about this). That being said, my family isn't Jewish, I have a lot of non-Orthodox friends, and creating baby registries is just ... fun. So I've created a few registries in case you're really jonesing to get me something (more will be added after the baby is born and I can get gender-specific).

The shipping address is my mom in Nebraska, but if you want to buy something and send it straight to Israel, that's cool, too (and saves my mom on shipping).

  

(Note:If you're sending to Israel, find the baby at Baby Gordon-Bennett | Box 323 | Neve Daniel 90909 ISRAEL. But be sure to label the box, or else I might not know who it's coming from! But whatever you do, make sure the package is marked under $50 and "used" or "gift" or else they'll confiscate it and I'll have to battle with the tax authority.)

And now? It's back to giving the baby all the attention in the world and nursing my Braxton-Hicks pain ... should we start a poll on when the baby will show up? 

Also: Did you spot the theme? Monkeys. Don't make gender assumptions. We're just expecting this baby to be a cheeky monkey!

Jewish Motherhood: Starting Earlier Than Expected

It’s Magic No. 3 for The Jewish Motherhood Project, and we’re ringing it in with 32-year-old Yochana, who was 18 years old when she had her first and “barely out of high school.” Sometimes, the scariest revelation can become the greatest gift.

If you're looking for other posts in the project, check the archives. If you want to give your thoughts in the Q&A, click here.

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How old were you/what was your situation when you had your first child? 
I was 18 and barely out of high school. It definitely was not what I had intended. I was living with my boyfriend (now husband) and his mom and grandparents at the time. They had previously taken me in from a bad home situation.

Did you always want to be a mommy? Why or why not?
I wasn't really sure. I knew that someday I probably would, but at that time, I was actually considering joining the military.


What was your greatest fear when you found out you were pregnant? What was your greatest anticipation/excited feeling? 
I was terrified because I was so young. I had no support system of anyone my age who understood what I was going through. I had a fantastic support system in my husband's family and our friends in general, but no one my age who "got it."

How did your husband/partner and family react to you being preggo? 
My husband freaked out at first, understandably. He didn't handle it well. His family, whatever thoughts they had about it, shared only understanding. We were so anxious, and they were so supportive. I'm very grateful. My mom was supportive, but she was having a lot of her own struggles at the time.

What was your pregnancy like? 
Other than the ridiculous amount of weight I had gained (I threw caution to the wind with my eating; 13 years later I'm still paying for it), it was pretty uneventful.

How did you decide to start telling people you were preggo? Did you wait to reveal the gender? 
We told our immediate family and friends as soon as we found out. Neither of us were religiously observant at the time, so with every milestone, we shared the information. We chose a name I had wanted since childhood. Thankfully, the hubby also really liked the name.

How did the pregnancy affect your work, schooling, or family? 
I worked part time, so it had little effect. It definitely created a strain on the families because of our ages at the time.

In the days and weeks leading up to the birth, what do you remember experiencing or feeling? 
Anxiety. I was worried about screwing up, royally.

How did you infuse your Jewishness into the pregnancy/labor experience? 
At that time, I was unobservant, so I didn't. It was a very clinical delivery.

If you’ve had more children since your first, how were the experiences different? Were you more or less prepared? Was it harder or easier? 
My other two children came much later, nine and 10 years after, respectively. So while my husband and I were just as surprised (didn't think I could get pregnant, then thought baby number two was a fluke), we were much more prepared mentally and emotionally. By that time, we had become observant, so there was more to it spiritually.

What would be your three top tips for a first-time mother? 

1. You're going to get flooded with advice from everyone. Take it, don't take it, but listen, and consider its value. 
2. It's okay to ask for help. Don't think you have to do everything yourself. Asking for help could ease the anxiety a bit. 
3. Take it one day at a time. Don't stress too much about what happens later. 

Any advice from dad to other dads? 
Don't have any expectations, and make sure to remain patient — with everyone.

Is there anything else you want to add? 
I would not have planned my life as a mom this way, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. My husband and kids are amazing.

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Chavi's commentary: I can't even imagine how different the experiences of pregnancy and birth must have been between your first and second/third. It was probably very similar for iBoy's mom who had him in 2003 and his sister in 2012. And what little miracles they must have been. I have to give you mad props for entering mommydom so early on in life. I don't know how I would have handled a similar situation.

Jewish Motherhood: Inform Thyself!

Shavua tov and chodesh tov! I got a bit backlogged last week, but we’re starting this week fresh with the second installment of the Jewish Motherhood Project. Our featured mom is 27-year-old Chloe. Check out her answers below and be sure to check out other installments on the blog. If you want to participate, find the Q&A here.

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How old were you/what was your situation when you had your first child? 
I was 21 when I got pregnant and 22 when my first child was born. I had been married a few months when I got a positive pregnancy test, and he was born just after our first anniversary! I was in the middle of my second year of a BA in English Literature at Bar Ilan University and conveniently gave birth during the winter break, so I just went back to school a month later. I hired babysitters to take care of him on campus while I was in classes, and I left for the five or so minutes it took to nurse him every once in a while. It was actually pretty easy.

Did you always want to be a mommy? Why or why not?
Always? I think I never really considered not having kids, it was just something I assumed I would do one day.

How did your husband/partner and family react to you being preggo?
Excitedly — all smiles. Thank God.

What was your pregnancy like?
My pregnancies were both mostly textbook, as were my labors. I've been quite lucky in that regard.

How did you decide to start telling people you were preggo? Did you wait to reveal the gender?
I always tell close friends and family early on, because my theory is that if I were to miscarry, those would be the people I'd need for support … so why not tell them? Plus we get to share the excitement. Same with gender. We spoke about names a few times during pregnancy but didn't decide definitively until right before the brit.

How did the pregnancy affect your work, schooling, or family?
It makes things harder because it's exhausting, you're always the wrong temperature (i.e., sweating mid-winter and no one will open a window) and always have to pee at inopportune times. In terms of school/work, the only annoying part is having to take off so often for doctors appointments. I missed basically one class a month in one course because I could only get appointments at that time.

In the days and weeks leading up to the birth, what do you remember experiencing or feeling?
Anticipation, excitement, anxiety.

How did you infuse your Jewishness into the pregnancy/labor experience?
Not really. I find the Jewish spiritual take on most things too "fluffy" for my tastes; it feels more real to connect to the life inside of me and then thank God for it.

If you’ve had more children since your first, how were the experiences different? Were you more or less prepared? Was it harder or easier?
Similar pregnancies, but I was prepared the second time, so that was easier. The nausea was harder because I had a 2-year-old to take care of while lying pathetically on the couch, but other than that, not bad. Labor was much shorter and easier in that I knew what to do.

What would be your three top tips for a first-time mother?

1. Read. As much as you possibly can. Inform Thyself. You are your own best teacher and advocate.
2. Hire a doula who will be there for you no matter what choices you make in labor.
3. When the baby is born, remember: everyone else can bathe, change, and diaper the baby, wash the dishes, make the food, sweep the floor, do the laundry. Only YOU can nurse the baby. Do so however often and for as long as you damn well please, no one else needs to feed the baby to bond with him/her. They can hold the baby while you shower, if you want. But it is YOUR baby! Remember that.

Any advice from dad to other dads?
Husband likes to say "Remember: Everything is normal." How's that for a foreshadowing of doom? :)

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Chavi's commentary: This Jewish mom's experience was so different than the first, I can only imagine how many different shades of motherhood I'm going to see during the span of this project. I have to give a nod to the doula comment, just because I initially thought "no doula, no nothing" because that's my personality (I can do it all!). But living in Israel and realizing how much the language barrier would probably make for a very intense birthing experience, I found a doula and I couldn't be happier. Also? I'm going to have a serious challenge with the helping out with the baby. I have this sinking feeling I'm going to be one of those possessive first-time moms. Why? Not sure. Probably that same A-personality rearing its domineering head. But like all things, you never know until you get there!

Jewish Motherhood: Moving Past Miscarriage

Welcome to the first installment of The Jewish Motherhood Project! This project/series is geared toward helping all Jewish moms, mums, mommies, imas, emas, and the bajillion of other flavors of mommyhood to discuss the shared experience of pregnancy and birth anonymously or semi-anonymously.

To participate, just head on over to the Q&A, and be sure to tune in every week for another installment. For my comments on this Jewish motherhood story, read on through to the bottom.

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For our first installment, we welcome a 28-year-old mother of one who, at the time of her daughter's birth, had been married for almost two years and was living in Jerusalem. She was not in school at the time, and both her and her husband were working very hard to make ends meet. The entire pregnancy process was quite the ordeal, so please keep reading.

Did you always want to be a mommy? Why or why not?
I always wanted to be a mom. I did not want to wait as long as we did, however, because of some medical circumstances and a miscarriage, we had our daughter around our second wedding anniversary. Ever since I saw my cousins being born and babies everywhere I couldn't wait to be a mom. I also wanted to do things very differently than how my own mother did so I could not wait.

What was your greatest fear when you found out you were pregnant? What was your greatest anticipation/excited feeling?
I was very excited when I found out I was pregnant. However, after suffering a miscarriage two months beforehand, I was nervous: I was scared to talk about the pregnancy, scared to be with my husband, and barely left my house until I passed the 12-week mark and was well into the second trimester. It was exciting to know that I was able to conceive again shortly after my miscarriage, and I was excited to know that a human was growing inside of me.

How did your husband and family react to you being preggo?
My husband was so excited. He loved every second of the pregnancy. My family also was very excited, especially the ones who did not and do not know the measures we went to in order to get pregnant safely the second time around.

What was your pregnancy like?
I had a miscarriage two months prior to conceiving my daughter. It was an early miscarriage, but it was the scariest thing in the world. At the time I was attached to the baby because I happened to have had an ultrasound already, but at the same time it was so small and almost microscopic still that it wasn't as bad to move on as I thought it would be.

When I got pregnant again, I was scared to do anything that could potentially hurt my baby. Each ultrasound and blood test was a huge relief and made me happier and more excited than before.

Something abnormal about this pregnancy? I was pregnant with triplets! The twins were in one sac and the third baby — my daughter — was in her own sac. The twins sharing a placenta and a sac were in severe danger, and I lost them at 14 weeks. On top of that, I had severe hyperemesis so I had to stay in the hospital for an IV at 11 weeks. On top of the emotions of dealing with possible triplets, the nausea was bad and every time I had an ultrasound everyone would come running to check out the babies.

In the end, true emunah saved both my and my daughter's life because those twins may have endangered her safety and health inside the womb. After I lost the twins I had to be very careful. I was on partial bed rest, and we told only our parents the situation. It was hard because on the outside everyone saw me as this cute pregnant girl but we were dealing with so much on the inside that it was very hard. It also took me a while to feel connected to the baby because I felt like I was walking on eggshells for so long. It wasn't until I entered into the third trimester that I started to relax.

How did you decide to start telling people you were preggo? Did you wait to reveal the gender?
We only told our family and very close friends about the pregnancy because of everything we have been through. I did not want to post any pictures of my belly on Facebook, so I emailed anything I had to share privately. When we actually gave birth and announced it, people were shocked because they had no idea I was pregnant. I liked it that way. I didn't want to shove my pregnancy in people's faces, giving them room to assume how easy it was, or typical, after everything we have been through.

How did the pregnancy affect your work, schooling, or family?
I had to take off a lot of days of work for my illnesses throughout the pregnancy, without revealing why. That was a bit difficult, but at the end of the day, it was worth it. I know some people in my work from outside the office, and I didn't want them knowing my business.

In the days and weeks leading up to the birth, what do you remember experiencing or feeling?
I remember sitting with my husband talking about how in a few weeks everything is going to change, and that here would be a baby around us 24/7. It was a weird feeling laying on the couch hanging out knowing that any day a person was going to change our life and things would be different. I was excited and nervous: I was going to meet my baby. I was anxious more about how and when I was going to go into labor than the actual labor itself. I was scared my water was going to break while I was in the store. In the end, the doctor broke it for me, so I am thankful for that.

How did you infuse your Jewishness into the pregnancy/labor experience?
I davened and talked to Gd a lot during the pregnancy, I did not read any specific book, and my labor was very painful. My epidurals did not work so I kind of "forgot" to do some davening while in the process. I did say some tehillim before I went in to deliver, and my husband and I said a special prayer from Tefilas Chanah upon being admitted to the hospital. There are also some special prayers for the husband to say in there, which mine did as we were waiting for admittance.

What would be your three top tips for a first-time mother?

1. A lot of people are going to tell you different things about raising the baby. Always go with your gut instinct. Refer to books, but know there are so many opinions and ways to do things.
2. Remember and treasure every moment. When I was cleaning out my bedroom a few years ago I found a calendar my mom made of all my milestones when I was a baby. I thought it was ridiculous, no one had looked at it in more than 20 years. But now, being a mom, I want to write everything my baby does down and remember it forever.
3. Nap whenever you can. And make your husband help :)

Is there anything else you want to add?
If your mother-in-law is constantly telling you what to do or not do, just smile and nod, and in her presence do what will make her happy. At the end of the day it's worth it — not making her mad — and when she leaves, you can go right back to doing things your way.

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Chavi's commentary: This is one seriously triumphant story. You're a strong woman for going through so much, and I can't imagine what a gift your little girl must be to you and your husband. May you both be blessed with as many children as HaShem has in store for you, may they all be healthy, happy, and full of the strength that you hold within! And I'm with you on the baby book thing. My mom kept one for my older brother and me, and that book is like a treasure trove of fascinating milestones like my first words, a piece of hair from my first cut, gifts I got when I was born, and more. Those are things that might not have been meaningful to 10-year-old or 15-year-old me, but at 30, I can tell you I love perusing those goodies.

The Yom Kippur Approach

Oh hello there half of my new, large kitchen. 

Well, it's a new year, and I'm finally settled (or sort of settled, after roughly 24 hours) into a new apartment with a real kitchen, real living and dining space, but much smaller bedrooms and only one real bathroom. Life, as it goes, is all about compromises and, on occasion, sacrifices.

The past year (not to mention the past two years) has been quite the whirlwind. Moving to Israel, meeting Mr. T and getting engaged, losing both of my jobs, getting married, moving to Neve Daniel, Mr. T hitting rough professional/financial times, us struggling to get by ... and then finding an amazing job, money showing up that we were owed, an apartment popping up that perfectly suited our needs with an impending baby and a 10-year-old boy with us part-time.

It was a year of blessings and curses, in a way. And I cried a lot this year, and not just because I was pregnant for a lot of it (oh hormones).

I learned a lot about myself and what it means to daven (prayer), but not in the "I'm going to synagogue on Shabbat and reading out of the siddur (prayer book)" kind of praying. More the Chana style of praying. I like to think of it as silent but deadly: the quiet, angry moments with HaShem, coupled with the blissful, confusing moments with HaShem. I whispered myself to sleep with all of the problems and blessings on my lips, and I began every Shabbat with silent requests preceded by thank yous for all all of the beautiful things I've been gifted with -- from friends and family to parnasah and the beautiful baby I'm carrying.

After last year's immensely successful (for me) Yom Kippur, where I fasted successfully for the first time in years, I've been wondering how this Yom Kippur will be for me. I'm pregnant, and with the up and down of my blood pressure and dealing with some almost-black-out moments on days where I didn't eat or drink enough, I won't be fasting. Eating as little as possible, I don't even know if I'll make it to synagogue. It's going to be a Chana-style Yom Kippur/Shabbat experience for this gal.

What I do know is that I have all the hope in the world that 5774 will be a year of forgiveness, a consolidation of Jewish peoplehood and religion, and peace to all nations of the world. It's really all I can hope and wish for at this point. HaShem has smiled upon me in many ways, and no matter the amount of "curses" that seem to come my way, the "blessings" are abundant. It just takes a few moments for things to come into focus, sometimes.

Wishing everyone an easy fast, and g'mar chatimah tovah!

From Webb City to the Gush

I'm such a weirdo. This absolutely made my day. Yes, a scale that measures in kilograms made my day. Why? I'll tell you why.

Mr. T and I went to the doctor to go over some blood test results as well as to discuss my ultrasound from last week. The baby is great ("Nothing spectacular," says the doctor) and growing at the right rate ("But why nothing spectacular," asks Mr. T) according to all of the measurements so far ("You don't want spectacular!" the doctor says with a smile). After getting referrals for a 32-week ultrasound and a dietician (if I happen to need it) and the three-hour glucose test (which, hopefully will come back negative for gestational diabetes so I can rip up the dietician referral), I decided to hop on the scale since I neglected to make an August appointment with the nurse to check my weight and all of that good and fun stuff.

Of course, I made Mr. T turn around (he went to the bathroom) and started moving the scale around to detect my weight. As I landed on the same figure (less one pound or 1/2 a kilo) that I had in July when I weighed in (huzzah!), I noticed -- next to the brand name of the scale -- ", MO U.S.A." so I moved the weights a bit and bam!

Webb City, MO U.S.A.

You guys, I practically squeeeed with joy at this. I know, I sound like a nutcase, but you have to understand: Webb City was right down the road from where I grew up in Joplin. Webb City was where I spent my summers going to the drive-in movie theater. Webb City was like a mini-vacation from Joplin.

From 1921 E. 33rd Street to the Drive-In Movie Theater!

[And, please note my devastation as I just discovered that the movie theater was torn down to build a Walmart Supercenter ... sigh ... ]

Seeing a little piece of "home" from so long ago in a medical center in Efrat, Israel is like ... wow it's a trip for me. A real trip. It makes me wonder how a scale made in Webb City (in kilograms at that) made it all the way to the Gush of Eretz Yisrael.

It really is a small world after all.

Musings of the Pregnant Lady

Mr. T makes a mean salad. I'm one happy (and full) pregnant lady.

While Miley Cyrus was busy getting down and dirty on stage at the VMAs (goodbye childhood), I was fast asleep (or something like it) preparing for the all-important glucose test to find out if Little Z has come with the fun accessory of gestational diabetes (cross your fingers that it's a no!). Luckily, the Israeli system has a overly sugary lemonade-style drink, which outdoes the disgusting, throat-burning orange soda stylings of the U.S. healthcare system's diabetic testing process.

The hour that I was sitting idle waiting for jitters to set in (they didn't), and without an iPad (had to sell it to pay the rent), I spent people watching. Efrat, where the medical center is, is across the main highway that runs through this region, and is very friendly to the English-speaking community. It's interesting how clearly American some folks are, but how they can turn their Hebrew off and on like a switch (with a pretty impressive accent, too).

I also felt reassured that babies seem to know when there's a pregnant woman nearby. I swear babies look at me like they know something, like they have a direct line into my uterus and see what's going on. Have you ever had a baby look into your soul? Yeah, I feel like that regularly.

Last week we went for the "big scan" where they check for organs and limb length and heart development. Unfortunately we didn't land many good pictures because Little Z was moving around like a maniac (same during the first ultrasound), and I appear to have an anterior placenta, meaning that it's both difficult to feel much movement at this point and to get clear pictures of the baby without forcing it to move (which, by the way, the guy did and I've been sore in the tummy ever since). The most beautiful things we experienced with Little Z were seeing the spine and ribs and hearing the heartbeat. We did get one good picture, in which Little Z looks just like a lot like Mr. T and, it appears, is holding a microphone and doing karaoke in-utero (that's my kid ... but it's probably the fist).

As I approach my 25th week, the flutter of insane "OMG AM I READY!?" thoughts are whipping up a storm. If it's a boy can I handle the bris? (We went to a friend's baby's bris last week and that little wail kills me every time.) If it's a girl can I handle the possibility that she's going to be as bratty and as much of a pain in the tuches as I was?

What do I need when the baby comes home? Wait a second, I have to choose a hospital? Will a larger apartment appear so that we don't have to eventually put a new baby in a room with a 10 year old who has had his own space his whole life? A birthing plan? Do I need a doula (midwife)? Do I know enough about breastfeeding and diaper-changing and not getting any sleep ever for the rest of my life (not that I get much now anyway)?

And then, today, while sitting in a coffee shop working, Little Z started acting like a mad person flipping or hopping or doing a jig of some sort ... I felt bumps and lumps and for nearly a minute all the insanity of glucose tests and cloth versus regular diapers and the reality of never sleeping ever again drifted away.

There's a baby in there. That's weird. Have you ever considered how absolutely bizarre and strange it is that a human being can grow another human being? I mean, that's miraculous, folks. It's weird, but miraculous. And for someone like me -- who for the entire extent of my first marriage didn't want to have kids because things weren't good and then swore off children -- the fact that I got pregnant so quickly after getting married and after being off birth control for a millisecond after 12 years of being actively on the pill ... I mean ... how does that happen?

Sometimes, I'm able to marvel at the life I lead. It's nothing glamorous. It's nothing special. I'm light years away from the free and single New York City-dwelling journalist superstar I thought I'd be 10 years ago.

Last night, before drifting off to sleep (and before Miley's crazy teddybear-inspired hump fest), I checked my social streams to find one of my former copy editors, who I managed what feels like ages ago, tweeting and instagramming from the VMAs as an editor at Mashable. For all intents and purposes, he's leading the life I dreamed for myself so long ago.

And yet, here I am, going through the motions of a first-time mommy, anxiety about nesting and doing the right thing and raising kids right in tow.

HaShem has a funny way of taking us through life. But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Note: If you don't have the app Timehop, you should get it. Every day I wake up and look at my life a year ago, two years ago, and even five or six years ago. Not everyone is nearly as social as I am online, of course, but it's quite the interesting adventure. 

Shanah Rishona Guilt

Gluten-free enchiladas, granola bars for Mr. T, gluten-free pizza and fries,
pasta with sautéed spinach, sundried tomatoes, and mushrooms. 

One of the toughest things about having a full-time job, being pregnant and energy-less part of the time, and having a busy and awesomely ravenous husband is figuring out the proper balance to my day so that Mr. T doesn't end up eating pita and hummus for dinner and I don't end up gorging at one meal and feeling sick/exhausted the rest of the day.

After the first trimester, where I spent a lot of time sleeping and laying about (which I could do because I was under employed), I got a boost of energy and appetite -- for about two weeks. Yes, there were two glorious weeks where I was a machine from dawn until dusk and was able to eat just about every last bit of what I craved.

Those two weeks were short lived and a huge tease.

Now my energy levels wane from day to day. Some days I am more than eager to get up at 6:30 a.m. when Mr. T's alarm goes off and work all day and stay up late watching TV and having a nice homemade dinner. Other days, I pull myself out of bed at 9:30 a.m. and am crashing around 6 p.m.

So what's the big deal? I'm rocking a lot of "shanah rishonah guilt." What, you ask is this phenomenon? Shanah rishonah is how Jews refer to the first year of marriage (it literally means first year). For religious Jews, this first year means you're like a king and queen, you can hand out brachot (blessings) and instead of dipping your challah in salt you dip it in honey so everything will be sweet.

For very religious Jews -- who often don't date long before marriage and definitely don't live together -- it's also the chance to really spend time getting to know the other person, and the truth is that for Mr. T and I, it's been very much "getting to know you, getting to know all about you!"

Before we got married, I'd cooked for him a few times, and he cooked for me a few times, but we never shared a bathroom or bedroom or closet or space. We've been incredibly blessed that the transition has been smooth -- he's very easy going when I rearrange the entire kitchen or move things around in the closet. There are bigger fish to fry, as it goes.

But for me, there's still that feeling of needing to perform. I might work full-time now, but I'm home all day sitting at a desk near the kitchen, which makes me feel like I should be able to put up a four-course meal every night when Mr. T comes home from a day of hard-labor (he is an electrician after all). I also feel the need to make sure he's got healthy and filling lunches to schlep in every day to work. The guilt I feel when he comes home and I'm still tapping away working is probably unnecessary (he's even said it's unnecessary), but I know that the first year sets you up for life.

And with a tiny alien growing inside me, I have to wonder: What are things going to look like in six months when husband's working full-time, I'm working, baby is chilling out with me at home ...? And what about Erev Shabbat (Friday) when I basically stand up in the kitchen cooking from the moment I wake up until Shabbat comes in?

The truth is, I could probably take a huge load off of myself by not insisting on having an adventurous kitchen and palette. We have a vegetarian home, meaning that it's a constant battle to find protein-packed options for my most ravenous Mr. T (who can eat and eat and not gain a pound). So between work tasks, I'm scanning the web for gluten-free black bean burger recipes and ways to cook spaghetti squash and tips on using tofu that doesn't involve stir-fry (we over did it a few months ago). I don't like to replicate dishes too much, because I don't want to bore myself or the husband (or iBoy when he's around).

So what do you do? How do you rejigger things when your energy is up or down to keep things running at home? How do you fight that relationship-performing guilt? 

When You Feel Like a Hippo

Yes, I also sleep with an eye mask. That is, when I sleep. 

The weirdest thing about being pregnant is that you feel huge -- like hippopotamus huge -- even though you don't always look it in the first half or so of the process. I'm in that awkward phase of the pregnancy (20 weeks, about halfway through the pregnancy) where my weight has shifted and the clothing I've been getting by in just isn't necessarily working. Everything feels snug, and the things that I have that are naturally oversized make me look more huge (I think, anyway). 

I'm blessed with an amazing husband who -- on the first date -- told me that he thinks pregnant women are beautiful (it means they work, come on, how is that not attractive?) and that a woman's body changes more rapidly and frequently than a man's body and that he's cool with that. 

I've spent the past few months in anticipation of going to the U.S. and doing a crazy shopping adventure at Old Navy and Target to pick up maternity maxi dresses and skirts and sleeveless tops that I can modest-up with the the shells I own in abundance. When I canceled my U.S. trip, I thought, well, I'll just keep wearing what I'm wearing and if it stretches out, it stretches out and I'll figure out what to do when our finances are more in a mode of being able to afford things that fit. 

Alas, I don't think that's going to work. Or maybe I just need to come to grips with my size. 

As someone who has never been skinny or thin or even average, I can tell you that being pregnant is tough on the ego and self-image. There's a reason I haven't been taking the typical pregnancy photos. I'm struggling with feeling like my overall image hasn't changed much, even though it has, and I can feel it. It's a huge mind-mess. 

Looking at maternity bras and clothing and scanning discussion groups, it seems to me that there's something huge missing from the conversation: what it means and what it's like to be a curvy girl that's pregnant. 

When I was living in New Jersey and Colorado, I had a fairly regular gym regimen. In Colorado, I was going almost every day, spending a half-hour on the elliptical and then a half-hour on weights and working on balancing exercises. Burdened with misaligned patella on both legs, there are not many exercises I can do that aren't going to worsen an already bad knee problem (swimming and elliptical were the two okays I got from the last three physical therapists I had). Unfortunately, there isn't a pool super close, and there's no gym in sight. 

Right before I found out I was pregnant (which we found out while we were in England over Pesach, by the way), I was game to start a workout regimen again. I wanted to track down a Wii Fit and get moving, but the moment you find out you're pregnant, all the books and advice sound bytes tell you not to start up anything new. 

Stick to walking! they say. 

I've always found walking to be like ... the most boring thing on the planet when you don't have someplace to go. It's why I always hated running during volleyball in high school. When your'e running in circles, it's just pointless. Give me a destination!

So I'm doing what I can. My diet is still largely vegetarian (although with the pregnancy I've been craving meat and feeding that craving once a week or so), so I'm not gaining weight very rapidly according to my checkups. At my size, you're encouraged to not gain more than 15 or 20 pounds during the pregnancy, and I'm on a good pace for that. I try to walk up to the grocery store, even on the hottest of days, and every Shabbat we take a hard schlep around the neighborhood, which is crazy hilly and hard on me, but it's something. 

Anyone out there struggled with the "I'm already curvy" and "I'm getting much curvier" transition? How did you handle it? Did you just layer more? Wear more loose-fitting clothes? Or is it a non-starter when it comes to dealing?