Things no one tells you about breastfeeding

Mysterious scratches will appear on your chest and torso. I have got to keep this child's nails shorter.

2 months old (8/15/2012)

My how time flies! That may be a cliche, but it is oh so true.

Dozing with a full belly

She still seems so new and little, but at the same time she is so much bigger and stronger than she was even just a week or two ago. I find myself marveling about how long she has gotten and how big she is now, and then an hour later catching a glimpse in the mirror of her in my arms and thinking about how tiny she is. Her newborn clothes don't really fit anymore, though we can still stretch the newborn onsies  over her body so she can wear them. The larger sized onsies are still loose and a little long in the torso. Her 0-3 month sleepers are getting too short, but a lot of them aren't too much too baggy anymore. Just as she is filling out her smaller sleepers she will be switching to the 3-6 month sleepers, it seems she really did get her dad's long and lean build! Her adorable 3 month sized outfits fit pretty well, if a little on the loose side. Regardless of the fit, it's fun dressing her up. In a post from just before Penny was born I mentioned how unreasonably small baby socks are, and said it is just silly that any person's foot should fit in them. Well, her feet don't. Baby socks are short and wide, but our baby's feet are long and thin. I foresee a lifetime of frustration when it comes to clothes shopping, poor baby.

Greeting her dangly friends

Smiles abound these days. Penny greets me with a smile every time she wakes up from having slept enough rather than from being hungry. I can tell when hunger wakes her up because she starts rooting and fussing in her sleep. She smiles at us on the changing table (still loves diaper changes) smiles when we imitate her coos back to her. When we go out and strangers gush over her, she ponders them for a couple minutes before offering the new person a gummy grin. She also smiles at her dangling toys every day, and when I hung a bright alphabet quilt on the wall she smiled at it every time she noticed it for the first 3 days. Such a friendly baby!

She likes going out. She stares around with her eyes all big and looks continually amazed. One of the surest ways to calm a fussy Penny is to go outside and walk around. She also likes to stand up and look at the world. She supports pretty much all of her own weight these days, but has no sense of balance at all of course. When her legs get tired she likes to sit, but again has no balance and will topple if she isn't supported. Her head control is pretty good, she is getting less and less wobbly. She is starting to bat at things a little, and when her little hand makes contact her eyes get big with surprise or amazement. She is cooing and gurgling more and more often and with greater volume. She has been working on a laugh, but hasn't perfected that ability quite yet. Every now and then she will start with a new sound rather suddenly, often startling the dog who then stares at her with concern for several minutes. He is becoming used to her, but still hasn't quite decided what to do about her. It's cute.

The other day I was cooking dinner and Dan was changing Penny. He took the opportunity to coo and talk to her while she sucked her fingers and watched her. As he told it, she seemed to be in a good mood when suddenly out of nowhere she stiffened, flung both her arms out to the sides and started screaming bloody murder! After several minutes of listening to her inconsolable screaming I went in to see what was the matter. As far as we can tell, she bit herself. After she calmed down we had to chuckle about that. Silly baby.

Birth Story

I didn't have the completely natural birth I was so adamant about having. If I ever give birth again, I will go into it more prepared and have a better idea what to expect, as will Dan. Perhaps we will be in a better position to afford a doula's services. I still know I can do it all natural; I did most of it this time around and would have kept going if things had been a little different. I do feel a little disappointed in myself, but I'm not sad, traumatized, or sorry about the way things turned out. In the moment I did what I felt I needed, and it was the right thing for us.

Three days after my due date, I started having contractions. We had our final prenatal group appointment Thursday afternoon, during which I noticed a few irregular contractions. They were stronger than the braxton-hicks contractions I'd had before, but still not very strong so I didn't say anything. We went home and made dinner, and just after I'd finished the contractions got stronger and more regular. "Great!" I thought, "they say you should eat something when labor begins, I am so on top of that"! Not long afterwards, I threw up. Maybe fajitas aren't the best early labor food.

I put on a movie to help distract me from the contractions for a while. It was the first in the Harry Potter series, which my mom (who had arrived in town a couple days earlier) had never seen. This is relevant because in the 3 days during which the baby didn't have a name, my mom dubbed her "She Who Must Not Be Named".

Labor came on strong and fast, and I soon found that I couldn't sit still or pay attention to the movie. I started pacing. Eventually I ran a hot bath and got in. I was having back labor, and during every contraction I had Dan push hard on my sacrum to counter the pressure. I lost track of time pretty much completely, but after a couple hours I felt like it was time to go to the hospital. Dan called ahead, but since it was my first pregnancy and I'd only been having regular contractions for a couple hours they said we should wait before coming in. An hour later I made him call again, because things were getting really intense and I wasn't sure how I would tolerate a ride in the car with back labor I was still experiencing, which made sitting very uncomfortable. This time they heard me hollering in the background and told us to come on in. I think this was around 10 or 11 at night.

We got in to the parking garage and parked near the sky bridge before realizing it was closed for the night. So we had to walk down 3 flights of stairs and cross the street to enter the Emergency Room entrance. The lady at the desk escorted us up to the maternity ward, she was less than pleased. She seemed annoyed that I didn't want to sit in the wheelchair she brought, but reluctantly agreed to let me push it and lean on it instead. She was very impatient, I had a really hard time walking through the contractions but she didn't want to let me pause for anything. I think it's safe to say that no one liked her.

We arrived in the maternity ward and I nearly fell out of the elevator onto my hands and knees feeling like I was about to throw up again. A few deep breaths and my stomach stabilized without expelling any more of it's contents. The nurses who met us there were kind and understanding. They didn't rush me or push me and they got rid of Ms. Impatient immediately, to my relief. I don't know how long it took to get me all checked in, but after a while they checked me and were impressed that I was 6cm dilated.  Then they ran water in their tub for me to get in. It seemed like forever until the tub was finally full, but finally I was able to get in.

All this time I was still having back labor and having Dan push hard on my sacrum during contractions. He was great, trying to do everything he could to help me. From the beginning he had been helping coach me using techniques we had discussed before hand. As it got later and he got more tired, he got quieter, but I didn't notice as I got deeper and deeper into "laborland" and became less and less aware of my surroundings. I never felt like I couldn't do it, like I needed to stop. I don't know how long I was in the tub, but eventually I got out and was checked again. 8cm! I felt good. I was getting tired (and so was Dan) but we only had 2 more centimeters left and I was confident that it would all be over soon enough. So I continued laboring in the room, pacing, jiggling my hips (apparently this made one of the nurses giggle, as she had never seen anyone do that during labor before), and having Dan push on my sacrum. My water broke while I was standing at the end of the bed, and splashed on the floor. Later I sat on a stool for a few contractions, and when I got up there was another big puddle of fluid. Eventually, despite being near exhaustion, I was feeling ready to push, and asked them to check me again.

Devastation. Somehow, I was back down to 6cm. I think it was around 5 or 6am at that point, and Dan had been up for about 24 hours. I'd had only a couple more hours sleep than him. I'd been in labor for at least 10 hours, with intense back labor the whole time. Now I felt that I was being told that I had to start over from where I was at the beginning of the night, and was facing another 8-10 hours before it would be time to push. I had been so sure I was now at 9 or 10 cm. I lost it. I cried. I couldn't start over like that.  I couldn't do it, I didn't have that kind of stamina. I needed a break. I needed rest. I couldn't believe I was back down to 6. I was offered a shot containing pain killer that would take the edge off for an hour or so and might allow me to rest and get some energy back, and I agreed to try it.

The medicine helped a little, but it felt like only a few minutes later that the contractions were back in full force, and I did not feel rested or reenergized. I still felt devastated and exhausted. I asked for an epidural. My birth plan, which the hospital had on file, stated that I wanted a natural birth and did not want to be offered medication or an epidural. I give the staff credit because they asked me several times if I was really sure, and offered to try another dose of the pain killer I'd already had. I never felt pressured to get any type of painkiller, which is something I have heard that others who give birth in hospitals experience. Everything was my choice. I got an epidural. And I was finally able to relax. Poor Dan seemed hugely relieved. Hugely relieved is probably an understatement. He got to rest, too.

My mom, who had been in the room with us the whole time, went home to take care of the dog and get some rest herself. We napped for about 4 hours, I think. It was wonderful. I woke up feeling much better, ready to start over at the beginning of 10 more hours of labor if need be. I was checked once more, and hallelujah, 10cm! I wanted to be able to feel everything again, and had them turn the epidural way down. I wanted it out, I was feeling confident and great again and wanted to finish on my own. For me, the epidural got stronger closer to my feet. As the strength from my nap wore off, I could feel my contractions again quite well, part way down my thighs my legs felt tingly, and I couldn't feel my lower legs or feet at all. I also couldn't really move my legs, which I did not like. But I could feel the contractions with growing intensity, so I was satisfied that I would be able to push adequately. Later, as the epidural was being removed, the nurse made a surprised comment about how low it was. My mom arrived back at the hospital right as I was getting ready to call her and tell her it was time to push, great timing!

I pushed for 2-2 1/2 hours. It didn't feel all that long to me. They helped me get into a supported squat position for pushing. I guess that position was pretty effective, but after a while I had to move. My sacrum felt bruised from being pushed on so hard all night! They helped me onto my side, which was much better. My contractions were coming fairly far apart, but they were long and strong and I was able to get 4-6 pushes in during each one. The nurses said that the norm is about 3 pushes for each contraction. The midwife came in to prepare for delivery. It was the same midwife who had done our first prenatal appointment to confirm the pregnancy! I like her, and I like the way it came full circle with her delivering my little girl as well. They set up a mirror so that I could see the head beginning to crown. It was slow going they told me, because my pelvic muscles are very strong and tight. Strong pelvic muscles are good, they help you give birth more easily. Most of the time. But my pelvic muscles were tight and hindering progress, pushing the baby back up in between contractions. Because I was so tight, the midwife had both her hands stretching me to make room for the baby. She assured me that while I was tight, I was also strong and the baby was tolerating labor beautifully. I would give birth vaginally.

Someone came in to get the midwife. A woman in a different room was about to deliver, and the midwife hurried away and left me to continue with the help of my nurse. Eventually, she was ready to come. The nurse rushed off to get the midwife. There was meconium (newborn poo) and because of concern about the baby inhaling it, they planned to pull her out all at once. The baby coming down was the most intense feeling I had had yet, so I squeezed my eyes my eyes shut and pushed with everything I had. Suddenly, there were exclamations and I sensed a new kind of activity. Something about a baby. What? What baby? I opened my eyes, shocked to see the tiny person now resting on my abdomen. She was so... purple.

I was stunned. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry. I wasn't sure this was even my baby. My baby wasn't purple, was she? Dan and I aren't purple. We checked, she was definitely still a girl. The cord stopped pulsing, Dan cut it. She was placed on my chest still yelling, but quickly calmed down. Gradually, oh so gradually, she stopped being purple. Ohmygodmybaby. Mybabymybabyohmygodbaby. Dan was there, by my head. Dan was always there, bless him. The midwife tugged on the cord to encourage the placenta to come, but the cord broke off. She had to reach in to get the placenta, which was almost as intense as giving birth had been. I yelled. The baby yelled. The baby. Ohmygodbabyohmygod. I was stitched up. There was some superficial tearing, only skin and not muscle. 6 stitches. There was the baby. Skin to skin contact. Baby. We tried breastfeeding after a while, but didn't get a good latch. We rested. The baby was taken, cleaned up, tagged, and swaddled. Her dad held her. My mom held her. I realized I was hungry and ordered food. I don't remember what I had, but it was absolutely delicious.

Babies are Fun

Dan- "I'm going to go clean the spit-up from inside of my belly button".
Penny (looking pleased with herself)- "Agoo eugh"!

It's been a month! (7/15/2012)

My baby is a month old already!

When I was asked recently how I like being home all day, I realized that I really don't feel like I have time for anything else. I can't imagine trying to go back to work any time soon! She eats every 1 1/2-3 hours during the day, and takes anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour to finish, depending on her hunger and the number of breaks she takes and how often she falls asleep while nursing. If we haven't done a diaper change while she was taking a nursing break, she needs one when she's finished. Then she needs to be soothed to sleep, or played with for a while until she gets sleepy and then soothed to sleep. And she is so irresistibly adorable that it's hard to put her down right when she's fallen asleep on me and not in her rocker or somewhere else. By the time we get through all that another hour has easily passed and I have up to an hour to feed, clean, and/or toilet myself and the dog, pump some milk to store, scrub the baby poop out of whatever has most recently been soiled, and try to accomplish something as far as house cleaning. I feel good about myself if I can do one chore per day. Extra good if the dog gets a walk and some love as well.

Who could resist this face?

Penny is growing and developing like a champ! Her two week birthday was marked by the arrival of her birth certificate and social security card, and the loss of the stump of the umbilical cord. Unfortunately, the birth certificate claimed she was male, and had to be returned for correction. Penny celebrated turning two weeks old by being fantastically fussy all day, and refusing to nap longer than a few minutes at a time. My mom was still here to help me deal with that, so I had some relief. Penny slept great that night.

Birth weight was attained once again by her doctor appointment at 10 days. For those who don't know, newborn babies who are breast fed lose weight after being born. They don't eat much the first day or two, they are too busy recovering from birth. Their mother's milk doesn't come in for a few days either, and while colostrum provides important antibodies it doesn't provide many calories. Babies start gaining weight again as their appetite increases and the milk comes in, and most babies have regained their birth weight by 2 weeks old. So Penny was right on track! She has continued to gain, which I can tell because her newborn size clothes are stretching to fit her these days. We have been dressing her in 0-3 month size sleepers since we brought her home, and they are fitting her much better now than they did at one week old. She is now the right length for the 0-3 month size, but the sleepers are all baggy and much too big around the middle. It looks like she is already long and lean, just like her dad.

Changing table fun time

Her face has changed in shape already. The round, puffy newborn face has gotten a little longer and leaner. She has stopped doing The Woodpecker like she used to, instead she turns her head more slowly, letting my nipple brush her lips a few times, before suddenly opening her mouth wide and diving her face into my breast for the latch. Her full and satisfied face that she makes when she's finished nursing hasn't changed yet. I'm glad, because that face is adorable. A new habit she has recently developed is nursing with her eyes open, usually staring blankly at whatever is in front of her face (my boob) but sometimes gazing up at me or something else that has caught her fancy. Once, she tried to turn her head to look out the window. We won't be allowing that one to happen again, ouch!

The tail end of a toothless grin

Penny's newborn startle reflex is diminishing in frequency, but not in the amount of amusement it provides her parents. When some sound or shift in position of whoever is holding her sets off the reflex her arms fly up with her hands splayed open, then slowly drift back down into relaxation. The hands are the only indication she is not fully sound asleep; her eyes stay closed and she doesn't stir or become upset. Sometimes we miss whatever caused the startle (a car passing on the street? a sniffle? the clink of silverware against a dish?) but glance at her in time to see her hands doing their slow motion descent back down to her lap. Sometimes they get stuck after her elbow touches down, and she sleeps for a while with her open hand above her chest as if telling us not to pick her up and disturb the bliss of her milky dreams.

The smiles. Oh, the delightful smiles. She is starting to smile in response to things. On the changing table she will give us big toothless grins while we marvel to her about her impressive ability to dirty her bottom and soak a diaper in 5 seconds flat. She will also smile at my breast after falling asleep while nursing, and at the window, which holds her in fascination. Toothless grins really are the best kind.

Loving that pig

Awake time is getting longer and more frequent as Penny learns that she can be awake and alert without having to be hungry or on the changing table. Have I mentioned how much she loves being on the changing table? Loves. It. She calms down immediately upon being set down, and cheerfully stretches and kicks and flails her arms, while offering us her sweetest, biggest smiles. But lately she has also been cheerful and smiley while not on the changing table. This has changed my life. Almost as often as not she is content to be left in her rocking chair or on the floor (on a mat or blanket of course) to stare at things and kick her legs. The other day I'm pretty sure she was watching her own arm move around. She particularly likes the pink pig toy that dangles from her chair, showing obvious preference for it over the blue sheep that hangs on the other side. This leads me to believe that she will eventually exhibit a strong affinity for all things pink and frilly and fluffy, much like I did as a small child even though that kind of thing makes me want to throw up a little nowadays. Oh, well. When she's old enough to demand the most ridiculously girly things, she shall have ridiculously girly things. I just hope she will also deign to play in the dirt with me!

Interested, because she's not looking

The dog is warming up to the baby, slowly but surely. Poor Bilbo was terrified of her when she first came home and refused to come closer to her than 2 or 3 feet. Funny little dog worries about her though; when she cried the first night he hopped up on our bed to make sure we attended to her. He will come into the room in which she is upset if he was sleeping in a different room, and if she cries and I don't immediately go to her, he stares at me until I do. Now that he's had some time to adjust he will sometimes go up and sniff her of his own free will, but only if he thinks no one (including the baby) is paying attention. Silly dog. But then again, maybe he is right to be cautious. Maybe he is dreading the day she discovers he exists, and later the day when she becomes mobile and begins chasing him down with her sticky baby fingers and drooly baby mouth. Maybe he is being a smart dog, after all.

Penny, 1 week old! 6/23/2012

I've known this little girl for a week and she already has me (and Dan) wrapped around her finger. She certainly runs the schedule! New babies are known for doing very little aside from eating, pooping, and sleeping. Well, little Penny is no exception! But there are so many little things about her that make her unique and loveable. Maybe (okay, probably) she isn't as unique as I think, but this whole baby thing is new to me so give me a break. I do know for sure that her cry is her own and both Dan and I can pick it out from a room full of crying babies. Her cry isn't nearly as annoying as all the rest.

All these darling baby things about her won't last long. The way she smells has already changed, in such a short time! When we brought her home she had the sweet smell of colostrum (pre-milk; milk doesn't actually come in until a few days after birth) and new baby and I just couldn't get enough. Now my milk is in and she smells like baby and milk. I can not believe how quickly her scent changed, I thought (hoped) she would smell like that forever!

When I feed her she does this thing with her head that my mom calls The Woodpecker- she searches for my nipple by bobbing her head towards me and then jerking back a couple times until she gets her mouth in the right general area. Then she shakes her head back and forth with really small, quick movements. I know she's trying to latch, but her aim is terrible and its adorable.

When she's done feeding she pulls back with her chin up, eyes closed, and the most satisfied little pout on her face. If she doesn't  immediately fall asleep for a couple hours, she opens her eyes wide and looks around, staring mostly at the ceiling but sometimes at my face. She will wave her arms around with her long fingers extended and motioning like a sorceress. When she gets tired she sighs deeply, letting her arms suddenly drop and her back slouch on the exhale. Or, if she stays sleeping, various facial expressions chase themselves across her face. She makes the best faces, from frowning to confusion to eye rolling and everything in between. She occasionally makes little half smiles and even more occasionally big grins. I know there is no intent or response behind them yet, but her smiles are simply heart melting. Best. Thing. Ever. And that is not an exaggeration.

She holds her right hand near her face and waves her fingers, again looking like she is practicing magic. She likes to wave it around while she is nursing, and I often have to pin it down between us to get it out of the way so we can continue nursing. Her pesky right arm is constantly escaping her swaddle and frustrating Penny by stealing her pacifier, clawing her cheek, and generally making mischief. She can't learn gross motor control soon enough!

Penny has gotten used to diaper changes and no longer vigorously protests. When she is laid out to be changed she throws her head back and to one side and looks curiously around above herself, turning her head quietly back and forth while her feet kick and arms wave aimlessly. Or, since the changing table is next to the window, she will stare up at the sky with her lips pursed and her eyes wide. Some of my favorite moments are while she is being changed, because she goes into a quiet alert state and is clearly the best baby in the world.

There are a million more little habits she already has, and I adore every single one of them. I was told recently that with the first child, parents can't wait for them to hurry up and meet each milestone as they grow, but with later children they want to hold on to every moment. I must have mothered a child in a past life, because I don't want Penny to get big and start crawling! I think I'd be happy if she stayed this little and sweet and cuddly for a long time. Her clothes are all too big (we avoided getting newborn sizes as much as possible) and she looks adorable in them, I like being able to put her down for a moment and know she isn't going anywhere, and snuggling with a newborn makes the world an infinitely better place. We made a perfect baby, and I want to enjoy her tiny perfection as long as possible.

Baby Lego has been born! 6/15/2012

Penelope Ruth 

Friday, June 15th 2012

1:08 pm

8 pounds 1 ounce

(3.66 kilograms)

20 inches (50.8 cm)

Due date! Still pregnant, 40 weeks

The official arbitrary date given for my baby's estimated arrival is finally here!

There were times it seemed like today would never come. But now that it's here, I'm wondering how it snuck up on me so quickly!

I'm still here, still pregnant. I promise, I will share the exciting news when I have some exciting news to share.

While you wait on the edge of your seats for my good news, click this link. This video was shot after the couple had been trying to get pregnant for 2.5 years, and now they are finally expecting. The Dad's reaction is priceless!

At least two, maybe three of the eight babies in our group appointments have been born. We still have one more group prenatal appointment, and the babies who have been born already will be used to demonstrate things like swaddling for the rest of the group who is still expecting. I am hoping that my baby will be one of those demo babies! So far, no signs of that happening. Sigh. I do think it would be funny to bring my baby to a prenatal appointment, but it's Monday now and the appointment is Thursday. If I don't go into labor by tomorrow, chances are I will either still be in the hospital with the baby or still be pregnant by Thursday's appointment.

I still want Lego to take her time and arrive when she's ready, I just really, really hope that she is ready really, really soon! I've reached that point where I'm so very ready to not be pregnant any more. New aches and pains have been popping up during the last week and this whole experience is becoming a lot less enjoyable as a result. I'm quickly learning why so many women complain so much about the last little bit of pregnancy. The rest of this post will be more complaining.

They call it "lightening" when the baby drops. I do not feel lighter. I do not feel more comfortable. I do not have more room to eat or breathe. They say many women experience relief because the baby puts less pressure on their ribs and diaphragm.  This is just not the case. I feel more awkward and waddley, my ribs are being poked at just as much as they ever were, and now my pelvis is getting poked in places I'm pretty sure the baby isn't supposed to physically be able to reach. She was trying to give me a hip massage a couple days ago, I swear.

If you've never been pregnant (or if you have but have no idea what I'm talking about), push your knuckles into the bend of one of your hips. This works best when you're seated (legs relaxed) and not wearing pants. You should be able to feel some tendons and the ridge called the iliac crest in there and give yourself a mini massage. If you're anything like me, it feels kind of good. Now, imagine that sensation coming from somewhere in your pelvis and being applied to the inner side of the hip joint. It isn't the same as someone massaging your groin muscles so don't bother going there. It felt very much like the baby was trying to get her little fists in between the ball and the socket, and it wasn't nearly as pleasurable as an actual massage! Don't try to tell me that that isn't anatomically possible. Logic doesn't work on a pregnant woman.

Fecal matters, 39 weeks 4 days

Overheard earlier this week in the grocery store; (mom to small child) "You have to go a little longer without talking about poop first, then you can have one".

I can't wait to have conversations like that of my own. Except, knowing me, I will be swapping bathroom stories with my kids and Dan will be the one trying to discourage excessive poop talk in public.

Ticking time bomb, 39 weeks 1 day

It's more than time for another update. I guess as pregnancy has advanced, my inspiration has petered out. Or maybe it's just my energy level that has petered out. Whew! This baby is getting heavy, and definitely NOT more comfortable than when I last wrote. Turns out, carrying a 5-7lb person in your abdomen 24/7 wears a lady out!

The newest developments on the physical front include the baby moving and stretching inward and downward into my guts, instead of mostly outward. This inward movement causes new levels of discomfort like I never imagined! I don't really want to get all complainy here, but I really thought internal organs weren't supposed to have nerves to be able to feel that! I'm pretty sure this baby quite literally kicks the crap out of me sometimes. I just hope I don't develop any internal bleeding. That doesn't happen, right? I mean, women's bodies are designed to withstand their ninja babies' antics, or else the human race would have died out a long time ago. So, I'll be fine. I just need to keep reminding myself that.

The movements are always getting bigger, and it is seriously nuts to see the shape of my stomach change so drastically. The ripples and corners that appear and disappear at random look like something out of a freaky science fiction story. Weird, weird, weird. But awesome. I love watching her squirm around in there, it is so fascinating. I was aware that the movements would get strong enough to see, but I had no idea it would look this dramatic. I seriously need to get a video before it's too late!

The fetal hiccups I was warned about seem to happen mostly in the evening when I've gone to bed or am snuggled up on the couch, and they are kind of annoying. I guess it's similar to when I have hiccups- I'm never exactly sure when then next one is coming but I'm pretty sure it is, and that makes it really hard to relax or concentrate on anything else.

Confession: The other day while I was sorting and putting away baby clothes (thanks again, Aunt Bev and Allison!), I teared up a little. The mental image of my brand new and completely perfect little person wearing one of those tiny adorable outfits was just too much for me! The socks are unreasonably small. There is no excuse for a person to be small enough to fit into one of those. It's unreal. In 3 weeks or less there will be a tiny person here having her tiny feet fit into those ridiculous socks. Well, at least those feet won't be doing me any more internal damage then! On one hand, I'm really excited to meet her and hold her and it feels like torture to have had to wait SO LONG and be so close and yet so far away from the actual time of her arrival. On the other hand, despite the discomfort and complaints, I've gotten used to her and to being pregnant. I don't feel the need to get her out ASAP, I feel like I can keep this up for a while and there is no rush. I want her to be good and ready to make her appearance, and as thrilled as I will be to have me back to myself, I don't mind her waiting around for a while longer. The only caveat is please please please, Lego, come out on your own before the 42 week mark so we don't have to discuss induction!

People get surprised when we discuss my plan to forgo pain medication, especially when I tell them I'm not worried about labor. Well, younger people anyway. Most of my elderly clients didn't have much in the way of pain relief options so they're less impressed. It surprises me a little bit how engrained in our modern cultural mindset it is that labor in an intolerably painful experience that is only made endurable by the grace of modern medicine. People who choose to go that route have every right and while I encourage them to read, take classes, and educate themselves, I respect that they make the choices that are right for them. I wrote about birthing and labor in a previous post and don't want to go into it much here, but for me I'm really not worried about it. I don't expect it to be a cakewalk, but I have come to a place where I am very confident in my ability to give birth. Any pain I experience will be tolerable and I'm not afraid of it. My only concern is that I will not maintain my confidence and resolve throughout labor. I am absolutely certain I can do it, I'm less certain that I will still believe that while I'm actually doing it. Fortunately, I feel good about my choice of birthplace and birth partner and I trust them to give me the support I need. I'd like to have a doula, but they are very expensive and I just can't justify the out of pocket cost right now. I have been meaning to look into finding one who is in training and willing to come to my birth for free or very cheap to help her get the required experience for certification, but I keep forgetting. Maybe I will get to that before labor starts...

Dan's been a little jumpy for the last week or two. Every time I complain about my poor pulverized guts or say his name with any sort of emotional inflection (really, what pregnant lady isn't emotional?), he's pretty sure I'm about to tell him to go start the car and get me to the hospital. I don't scare him on purpose, but I have to admit that it's amusing! I am glad he has started keeping his phone on him while he is at work, though. It's nice to know he is now reachable if I need him and I won't have to wait until he is on break to be able to get ahold of him. Especially since he now has the car while he is there!

Technically I have been full term for 2 weeks now, since at 37 weeks babies are no longer considered premature. It feels surreal that the countdown to my estimated due date is now measured in days, not weeks. I finally stopped working after I finished my shift last friday, and now we are just playing the waiting game!

It's my blog and I'll whine if I want to, 35 weeks 5 days

Well... I warned you when I first started this blog that I might not be good at consistently keeping it updated. I've had a few posts sitting around waiting to be typed up and shared, but obviously they haven't taken priority over the lovely weather or the taking of naps. In fact, I have no idea why I'm inside doing this today when it's sunny and 80 out!

This is the post where I complain about being huge and uncomfortable. I know it's not THAT bad, I've heard stories. My pregnancy has been nothing but smooth sailing and I consider myself one lucky lady for that. But I've reached the point that everyone complains about, and now it's my turn. So all you ladies who actually have (or had) pregnancies worth complaining about, you might want to skip the rest of this post.


I feel enormous. That in itself isn't entirely terrible what with being pregnant and all, but being huge makes moving around seem like a workout of Olympic proportion. It's hard to get out of the car, it's hard to get up off the couch, it's hard to roll over in bed, and it's hard to put on my socks and pants. I grunt more than Spike, the pig who lived across the street from my Grandma and regularly crossed over to be scratched and fed carrots and potato peels.

This is probably too much information, but for a few months now my belly has been big enough that slouching or bending over causes my breasts to rest on top of it. That was pretty strange for me when it first started happening, but not surprising. Well, recently the bottom of my belly has begun hitting my thighs at the same time, which is an unexpected and unwelcome development! It makes bending over to wash my face uncomfortable, who'd have thunk something as simple as that would become a chore? Not cool.

My clothes don't fit. This delightful warm weather has everyone pulling their little summer dresses and tiny outfits out of their closets, and I feel like I'm never going to be happy with my wardrobe options again. I keep having to remind myself that my old clothes WILL fit, and I will be able to wear them and feel cute again before too much longer. Until then, I try and fail to convince myself I don't look like I'm wearing a tent. Then I try more successfully to convince myself that it doesn't matter, because I'm so pregnant that a tent is the only thing that covers my belly properly. I admit that my maternity clothes are not ALL tent-like, but most of my warmer weather ones are because I thought was being all smart and savvy by buying sale priced shirts that double as nursing tops. There was a reason those shirts lasted long enough in the store to be on sale. Now I'm too cheap and stubborn to go out and buy any more maternity clothes that will be worn for like, a month more, which naturally doesn't help. I am super looking forward to having my body back!

My feet and ankles keep swelling up when I'm on my feet for any length of time. This is more unsightly than uncomfortable so far, but I still don't like it. Feeling adventurous a couple weekends ago, Dan and I took the dog to Discovery park and walked the trails from the parking lot to the beach. I wore my comfy, expensive, outdoorsy shoes that I pretty much always wear and we took our time. I rested on the benches and we finally got to the beach an hour later. After exploring the low tide, I decided I needed to sit for a while and Dan offered to go get the car and bring it around to pick up me and the dog (who has a habit of randomly laying down every time he feels hot). Dan made the hike on his own in half an hour. After this ambitious adventure, I was exhausted, my ankles were huge, and my feet hurt for 2 days! My feet NEVER hurt, especially when I wear good shoes, so I found my newly sore feet particularly offensive. I'm lucky Dan is such a great husband; he rubbed them even though they were stinky, and made them feel so much better.

When I lay down at night or eat a big meal it becomes hard to breath for a while. I keep waking up with Lego wedged under my rib cage, and when she moves she pushes against my ribs and causes mild discomfort. I guess that's her way of saying good morning to her mama but I kind of wish she wouldn't. Getting up for midnight bathroom trips is the worst. It's hard enough to get out of bed without having a full bladder, but when you're 8 months pregnant and have really gotta go, struggling out from under the sheets into an upright position requires a herculean effort. On top of that, staggering half asleep to the toilet seems to wake up little Lego who decides it's play time and starts practicing her kickboxing as soon as I lay back down. Falling asleep again is no longer as quick and easy as it once was.

My back keeps getting sore! But not in the way I expected. So far my lower back is fine, it seems to be dealing with the added weight of Lego with little difficulty. But when I sit in a slouchy chair or couch for very long, or in a backless chair where I have to maintain my own upright posture, my upper back gets really tired and uncomfortable. I try sitting up straight but it doesn't help, I need to either lay down or move to a seat with decent back support. Standing up and walking around helps too -if my ankles aren't swollen.

If I lay on my back to put up my feet for a bit, my sacrum and hips get really sore and remain sore for a few minutes after standing up again. This is much worse on the floor, the bed seems soft enough to minimize pelvic discomfort so far. Dan tried practicing a technique to help relieve labor pain by squeezing my hips during a labor coping class, and ouch!! We will have to wait until labor actually starts to try that again. The thing is, it felt like I might have actually liked it if I weren't pregnant and full of ligament relaxing hormones. I have been known to enjoy a good firm hip massage.

When I start out on a walk at any pace faster than 90-year-old-lady speed or dog-sniffing-for-a-suitable-place-to-poop speed, my abdomen gets rock hard and I feel an urgent need to pee. This is a braxton hicks (or practice) contraction and is completely normal and painless. The problem is, it doesn't matter if I literally just went to the bathroom moments before starting out, it always feels like I need to rush back inside and empty my bladder. Also, it's  uncomfortable! It doesn't seem to matter how hydrated I am (dehydration can cause or increase the frequency of braxton hicks) or if I'm not even going that fast, it happens every. single. time. It passes before too long though, so I'm still able to walk the dog without feeling like I'm about to go into serious labor, which I'm thankful for.

Okay, okay. That's enough complaining for today. Like I said, I don't REALLY have it all that bad. I haven't been doomed to months or even weeks of strict bed rest, my hips and all my rib joints have stayed comfortably in place, my blood pressure has been healthy on the low end of normal (high = scary during pregnancy), and even the aches and complaints I do have might be ever so slightly exaggerated here. I mean, I clipped my own toenails last night! It was quite an accomplishment, but I did it all by myself. That's something to feel good about!

Belly Shots!

11 weeks

21 weeks

28 weeks

33 weeks

 

35 weeks

I got a new tank top because I was starting to feel bad for the old one, trying to stretch out to proportions it wasn't meant to cover!

Lego has been big enough to feel by hand pretty easily through my stomach since, oh I don't remember, at least a month ago. We can feel where she is in my belly whether she is active or not, but it's often really hard to tell which end is which! We finally got the good news (confirmed by 5 minute in office ultrasound- no take home picture though) that she is head down and in position to go; relief! Her movements that are big enough to see through my belly have gotten big to the point of looking creepy and I feel like my belly is about to burst open Alien style. I keep trying to get a video of it, but it's really erratic so it's been impossible to get the recorder function all set up before she settles down. I'm probably the only one who thinks it's cool enough to record anyway. It is so fun when she pushes out that hard! Often it's a big a hard lump just below my ribcage, which is probably her back or butt. Other times it's angular and small, so it's probably a foot or a knee. Her hands seem to mostly be near her face, and she likes to punch my bladder. Luckily she needs to work on her boxing skills, so her punches aren't hard enough to cause major discomfort or sudden sprints to the bathroom.

Name Game part 3, 34 weeks

This actually happened a month ago or so, but I'm only getting around to posting it now because I think I'm too good for you all of a sudden. Okay okay, that's a big lie. The truth is, I'm lazy.

Dan's most recent name ideas;

Babygirl Lovechild
Junebaby Thunderfoot.

This kid will never have a name.

Bonded, 4/11/2012 31 weeks 2 days

Early on in pregnancy I searched out and read other women's pregnancy blogs.  This was part of the inspiration for me to start my own blog. I wanted insider's perspectives of what pregnancy is really like week to week and month to month- from sources other than the weekly emails sent by the likes of babycenter with generalized pregnancy info and fetal development milestones. One of the bloggers wrote about how her relationship with her emotionally distant mother was causing her anxiety about her own ability to be a good, emotionally invested mother. This blogger discussed her fears with her therapist who assured her that the kind of detachment the blogger's mother exhibited is extremely rare. The therapist also told the blogger that even though she was months away from delivery she was already healthily emotionally bonded with her baby.

At the time I read this, the idea of being emotionally bonded with a fetus struck me as a bit odd. I was early enough in pregnancy that it still didn't quite feel real, and other than a nearly constant queasy stomach and persistent fatigue there wasn't any daily indication that a baby was in my future. Being emotionally bonded with the tiny creature buried deep inside me that didn't even look fully human yet seemed like a stretch. 

During the first few months of pregnancy I was more emotionally attached to being pregnant than I was to the baby. Despite my initial surprise at seeing the plus sign on the pregnancy test, it did not take me long to embrace being pregnant. So, the loss of the pregnancy in the first trimester would have been quite an emotional blow, but to me it would not have represented the loss of an actual baby. The actual baby was far less real than the pregnancy, and the pregnancy itself was not a guaranteed continuing fact.

The stats for miscarriage are highest in the first trimester, and I think I was subconsciously protecting myself by not immediately going completely gaga over all things baby.  I couldn't shake the feeling that the pregnancy could end at any time with little warning, and there was not much I could do about it. Maybe I internalized my Dad's favorite thing to say when planning a camping trip; "expect the best and be prepared for the worst". He'll be glad to know at least one thing stuck! As time passed and the statistics indicated that my pregnancy was more and more likely to end with a baby, I began getting gradually more excited. With each prenatal checkup showing normal healthy development, the pregnancy and resulting baby felt more real. Being able to feel Lego's movement helped confirm the reality of a future infant, and somewhere in there I began to get excited for my baby.

These days Dan and I can pretty reliably tell where Lego is in my womb. Her head is a big hard round lump and her body is another, longer hard lump. It's not always easy to tell which end is the head, but she definitely does not have to be active in order to be felt by either of us. When she is active and stretching, she makes lumps grow and move around on my belly. That is even weirder to feel than it is to watch! When I push on one of the temporary lumps, I can feel the other end of her dig in to me somewhere else. Even her smaller movements can be felt- sometimes Dan feels her moving gently under his hand but I haven't noticed a thing. So, it is quite obvious there is a baby, and she is real.

I am madly in love with her.

I totally get what that therapist was saying now. I'm falling more in love every day, and if his confessions of having baby fever are an indication, so is Dan. I'm not sure when this happened, but my emotions have definitely shifted and are now centered very much on Lego. I can't wait to hold her and dress her and feel the weight of her tiny body outside of my not-so-tiny body. Even if she is completely average in every way when it comes to meeting developmental milestones, I'm pretty sure that she will be the most stunningly amazing version of average out of any baby ever to exist. If she is developmentally delayed in some way, her development will still be more impressive than that of any other baby. If she comes out ahead in meeting her milestones, clearly that is because she is a genius and will one day be the mayor of Newt Gingrich's moon colony.

Easter Card Lady, 30 weeks 1 day

When I wear maternity clothes, it's really obvious that I'm pregnant. When I wear big baggy non-maternity clothes or my big coat all buttoned closed, it's not so obvious. In fact, I'm not sure the next door neighbors have noticed yet, because I always seem to have my coat buttoned or be wearing something baggy when I run in to them. In fact, last week one of them suggested to Dan that the four of us go out to a bar sometime. But with the weather getting gradually nicer, I have been wearing more fitted clothing and buttoning my jacket less often. People are noticing.

Everyone loves a pregnant woman.

I catch strangers smiling at my belly fairly often. Now that it's mostly obvious that I'm pregnant I've had a few strangers start talking to me about it. Strangers and acquaintances congratulate me and say things like "I bet you're excited" and ask if it's my first. They also like to ask how far along I am and then make comments about how big or small they think I look. I usually just smile and make nice noises and then continue whatever I had been doing. There was one stranger who bothered me though. This was almost a month ago, and I was in the greeting card section of a drug store with a client. A thin, middle aged woman with dyed blond hair interrupted our search for grandchild-appropriate Easter cards to ask me about my pregnancy. When I told her I was a bit over 6 months, she just couldn't believe it. She went on about how huge I was, and how I looked like I was just going to pop any minute now, and how she just couldn't believe I had about 3 months left to get even bigger, and I must be so uncomfortable. By the time I turned back to the Easter cards I was thoroughly annoyed.

I'm well aware that I look pregnant, and I'm not one of those pregnant woman who is sensitive to comments about the size of her belly. I've been told that I look tiny for how far along I am, and there are people who can't believe I'm this big already and only this far along. I actually had a client tell me that she couldn't believe I wasn't due next week and that I barely look pregnant at all- within a 10 minute time frame. Okay, so most of my clients are senile and have difficulty with memory. My point is, I accept that people are going to make comments and mostly they don't cause me to bat an eye. I do, however, feel that I should remind people that a pregnant woman is still first and foremost, a woman.

Women in America don't generally like people commenting on the size of their body unless it's to acknowledge recent weight loss, and pregnancy is little different for many (most?) women. The main difference between a pregnant woman and a non-pregnant woman is that the pregnant woman expects to be gaining weight, so weight loss or even lack of gain is usually cause for concern (at least, by the time she's far enough along that people can tell she is pregnant). So, commenting on how small a pregnant woman looks can lead to worry that she isn't gaining enough weight, isn't eating enough, or that her baby has something wrong and isn't growing. Comments about how big she is can cause anxiety about gaining too much weight too fast, eating too much junk, the negative impact that could have on the baby, and bring up body image issues about looking fat and bloated instead of pregnant.

Really, the only safe thing you can say to a pregnant woman is "you look amazing".

As I said above, I'm really not the type who is sensitive to size comments. 99% of the comments I have gotten haven't bothered me a bit. Mostly I just feel amused by the variety, from "How do you stay so small?" to "You look like the baby is coming tomorrow!".  I know that me and Lego are healthy and at the size that is just right for us. I also don't suffer from body image issues, so even when I looked more chubby than pregnant I still felt pretty. Rather than feeling fat, I feel beautiful as a pregnant woman. I like my belly more now than I did not pregnant. So if you're worried about having offended me with some size related comment made on a facebook photo, worry no more. You didn't.

That said, don't be Easter Card Lady. Easter Card Lady should have stopped at one size related comment or better yet, have avoided size related comments at all. Easter Card Lady should have realized that pregnant women are often hormonal, moody, and overly sensitive. Easter Card Lady should have told me that I look amazing, and then shut up and gone back to her own business. Easter Card Lady holds the honor of having annoyed me to the point of me writing a blog post explaining why no one should be like her.  Thanks for the inspiration, Easter Card Lady.

The Video, 29 weeks 3 days

Last week we had our monthly group appointment. Lego's heartbeat sounded good and I'm measuring right on track, as usual! During the group part we watched a video of a woman labor and give birth without receiving anything for pain. The nurse-midwives wanted us to see a birth as it really looks; labor lasting many hours with only a few people around and most of it appearing pretty dull to the casual observer. The media portrays labor and birth as a quick, intense event that begins with the water breaking and after an action packed rush to the hospital a squalling infant appears amidst an excited crowd of hospital staff and main characters.

The last time I had seen an uncensored recording of a real birth was in high school health class. The birthing video was infamous around school for showing everything, and most of my peers were vocal about finding it unpleasant. At the time the video was pretty effective birth control, and I have to admit that I averted my eyes when the baby began to crown. My teenage self was far too much of a prude to want to see that!

Last week, my reaction was quite different. I found myself tearing up as the baby was born and placed on his mother's chest. As the lights flicked on and we looked around, it became clear that every single pregnant woman in the room was wiping her eyes. One of the nurse-midwives made a joke about never having seen a woman cry during that video before (obviously, pregnant women cry all the time when shown the video), and we moved on with our discussion. I all but forgot about it, but later it became clear that at least some of the men had been utterly baffled by the ladies' tears. Dan just couldn't wrap his head around it, and asked me what had evoked my emotional response. He emphasized the fact that "every single pregnant woman cried". He has certainly noticed my increased capacity for waterworks during the last several months, and told me he thought it was the crazy cocktail of pregnancy hormones. He might have been right, but I warned him he better watch himself talking like that around a pregnant woman!

Belly shots!

11 Weeks

18 Weeks

24 Weeks

26 Weeks

28 Weeks- 3rd Trimester!

When I come around a corner, someone watching can now see my belly begin to appear before the rest of me. This makes it much harder to play hide-and-seek. I also regularly underestimate the amount of room I take up, and accidentally bump people and things that are supposed to be well away from where my belly ends. Sucking in my gut is no longer effective. I get stuck in between the table and chair because I didn't pull the chair out far enough before trying to sit down. When Dan and I are in bed and I try to be the big spoon, Lego kicks him in the back and I can barely reach him.

In other news, my belly button is still an innie!

Name Game Part 2, 28 weeks 4 days

After we found out that baby Lego is a girl, we got slightly more serious about picking a name for her. I say slightly, because we would start by discussing names we actually like (well, names one or the other of us likes) and devolve into a contest for coming up with the worst names. Sometimes the conversation would start out that way from the beginning; we would pretend to insist on a name we knew the other would hate only to be countered with another terrible name. You can understand how we manage to not make any real headway on the name front.

We did manage eventually to narrow down the choices to two top contenders. We both like either choice but, of course, disagree on which name is best. After being stuck at an impasse for a few weeks we decided to put the final decision on hold for a while. I thought that maybe if he was given time to digest without pressure from me, he would quickly realize that I am right. I didn't expect that his name of choice would grow on me, too! When we brought up the topic again, we were both less certain than we had been before about which name we favored. We both still like both names!

The final decision remains to be made about baby Lego's name. At this rate, it won't be made until after she is born.

Actually, the final decision is pretty likely to be made after she is born. Maybe she will have an opinion on what her name should be, and since she will be the one signing it all her life it seems only fair that she gets to weigh in. Maybe after meeting her it will be obvious that one name over the other is the best fit for her. Also, Dan and I have agreed not to worry about it anymore. The birth certificate won't have to be signed for several months yet, so we have time. Until then, calling her "Lego" does the job just fine as far as we are concerned.

The pee stick, October 16 2011

I want to record the story of how I found out I was pregnant, maybe more for me than for you reading this.

Now, I'm not a date-oriented person. So much so that I have always been terrible at remembering my own anniversaries. Dan and I never had an official dating anniversary, because neither of us could remember the date. We knew it was in spring, within a few weeks of my birthday. So, how do I know the exact date I found out I am pregnant? Normally, I wouldn't, but it just so happened to be Dan's birthday. That would be his real birthday, not his pretend birthday on October 9th. I don't know why he thinks he needs two birthdays, but oh well.

I had been feeling off and sickish for a while, but even though my period was late I really didn't think I was pregnant. My period is often late and I figured it would show up when it wanted, just like always. I was a little concerned though, and wanted to make a doctor appointment to make sure I was okay. It was pretty likely that they would test for pregnancy at the doctor so I decided to go ahead and take a test on my own just to rule out the possibility before making an appointment.

I watched in shock as the plus sign appeared immediately. I stared at it for a few seconds, then quickly put it down and left the room. A few minutes later I crept back in and gingerly picked up the test. Still positive. I shook it, and looked again. The opening scene in the movie Juno came to mind, where Juno is reminded by Rainn Wilson's character  that a pregnancy test is not an etch-a-sketch, and I felt a little silly. I peered doubtfully at the result window. The plus sign was still there, darker than the control line that shows up to let you know the test is not defective. I put it down and left again.

I picked Dan up at work that evening. I had sneaked in and out of the bathroom a few more times, rechecking that the test hadn't mysteriously changed it's mind. I hadn't given any thought as to how I would tell Dan, and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it secret long enough to devise a sweet and creative way to break the news. So, as soon as he had his seat belt buckled I handed him the test. Nice way to say hello, right? Don't worry, I cleaned the stick before tucking it in my pocket. Anyway, Dan kind of stared at it in silence for a few seconds. I assumed he had very limited familiarity with the devices and was figuring out the results. Then he grinned. "This is the best birthday present ever"!

A Tiny Person! 26 weeks, 1 day

We brought home the car seat the other day! I'm thrilled we now have a place to put the baby, so if we don't get a crib she can sleep in the car. Kidding!

As I was watching Dan look over the car seat and play with the straps and latches and all that, a sudden image popped into my head. I pictured him gently laying a tiny person into the seat and buckling her in. The overwhelming reality struck me in a way that it hasn't before. There is going to be a brand new itty bitty PERSON here soon! A whole other person who will demand seriously unreasonable amounts of our time and energy and love, and give us poopy diapers and pukey shirts in return. We have like, 3 months. 3 1/2 tops. That's like, practically nothing! We still have so much to do to prepare!

Making it work, 25 weeks 5 days

Throughout my pregnancy we have been planning to move to a bigger place before the baby comes. We decided it would be best to have a second bedroom which I imagined would be a combination guest room and baby room. Both sets of grandparents will be visiting in the weeks after the birth and I really wanted a room for them to be a bit more comfortable in. The baby will be in our room early on regardless of the status of occupancy of the guest room, but eventually the plan was to set up the crib or pack and play in there and let Lego have her own closet space and everything else.

After giving notice of our intention to vacate our current one bedroom place and spending the better part of a month touring apartments in various neighborhoods, worrying over the financial aspects of moving (application fees, first and last month's rent plus pet deposit, moving van rental, and regular bills and saving up for Lego's arrival, all before getting any of our old security deposit back), furnishing another whole room and the logistics of moving on a budget when I'm 6+ months pregnant, stressing about which apartment we didn't exactly love to choose, and getting nervous about when we would be able to move in, we finally decided to throw the whole idea out the window. We withdrew our notice of vacancy and luckily our new landlords (who just bought the building we have lived in for the past 2 years) don't seem to mind a bit.

Just as things were coming to a head- we had a week to figure everything out and had just gotten word that both places we had applied for had been rented to other people- I shared with Dan three stories of families making small spaces work for them. We have come to the conclusion that if they can do it, so can we. An 800 square foot apartment is plenty of space for three (or two and half) people compared to what many people have!

One of my elderly clients has grandchildren who live in a 250 square foot yert in Alaska, off the grid. They have two small children (my client's great grandchildren) who were born into life in a yert off the gird. The couch is a futon that doubles as the parent's bed and the kids have a loft bed above them. The kitchen table is a trunk in which the mother keeps her clothes and other storage, and each family member has a drawer in the single dresser. They carry their water up from the stream every day and purify all of it before drinking. When it freezes, they use ice and snow. When the kids were babies, their cloth diapers were washed in the stream until it froze- then they reluctantly switched to seventh generation disposables. Compared to that, Dan and I have it super easy, and more than enough space!

Our challenge will be mainly organization. We will need to reorganize and get rid of some things in order to fit baby stuff and generally make this space more open and comfortable, and then we will have to be strict with ourselves to keep it neat and put away! Neither of us are very good at being organized and tidy, but we agree we would like to develop better habits before baby Lego gets here. We will keep the amount of baby furnishings (swing, bouncer, changing table, etc.) to a minimum to help maximize space, and instead of getting her her own dresser I will start with clearing out one or more of my dresser drawers. New babies don't need much stuff, all that is mostly for parents anyway. We have a few other ideas as well, but anyone who has input on making small spaces work by all means leave a comment! Please!

I do regret not being able to provide our parents and in-laws with the privacy and comfort a second bedroom could offer, but the weight that lifted off our shoulders when we decided to stay put for now makes that sacrifice more than worth it. Yeah, my parents' comfort was definitely worth giving up in favor of my own peace of mind!

Now, away with me. I'm off to develop better habits!

Lover of Loving Love, 24 weeks, 6 days

It's a sunny Sunday, and I'm in a very pleasant mood even though poor Dan is sick in bed. I'm being lazy, accompanied by the dog, and enjoying a banana while Lego squirms around. She's been getting more and more active, it's crazy fun! The other day we saw my belly changing shape a little while she was doing her wiggly thing. Then a few days later she was poking at the top of my belly and nudging me at the bottom and side at the same time! Hard! I think she must have been having herself a disco party in there. When she becomes mobile she's going to keep us on our toes for sure.

My pregnancy has been pretty easy so far, and I have been really enjoying it. While I'm super excited to meet her and hold her and see what she looks like (I think she's going to look just like Dan), I'm going to be a little tiny bit sad not to be pregnant anymore after she arrives. I'm just a couple weeks away from my 3rd trimester- the home stretch! I like my belly and for the most part have been enjoying observing the changes in my body as Lego grows. I feel pretty and confident, and am still stretch-mark free for the time being! My belly has started getting in the way a little, but mostly it's not inconvenient and doesn't interfere with my daily activities. I like feeling her in there at random times throughout the day, having the constant reminder that she's with me. I feel close to her, and I love when Dan puts his hand on my belly to feel her too. It's been wonderful seeing him be excited for our baby. It's so sweet when he talks to her, and I love the look of awe on his face when he feels a particularly hard kick. He's been great about putting up with all my weird little changes brought on by pregnancy (gas, fatigue, tears at the drop of a hat), and he has been loving the random food I have been bringing home after work and insisting on making at 10:00 at night.

I know having a baby will more than make up for it, but I really think I'm going to miss this special time. The day by day of pregnancy sometimes feels endless and there are days I would trade my elbows for a glass of wine, but overall this time is so very, very short. We will never have this experience again of being pregnant for the first time, with all the wonder, excitement, and anticipation that goes along with it. I wish I could package up these feelings to revisit over the years, to make them last just little longer, or to remind me about how much I really do love this poopy, fussy, headstrong child.

It's coming out of WHERE?! Begun 2/8/2012, 20 weeks 2 days

Childbirth is a somewhat controversial topic, with a lot of people who have a lot of strong opinions about it. I'm writing about this topic not to preach or stir up controversy, but because childbirth has been on my mind quite a lot lately. My intention is to share my thoughts and desires, not to claim that there is a right or wrong way to give birth. What's best for me isn't best for everyone, and many women don't want the birthing experience I want. That's fine. This is my blog about what I want for me. For anyone keeping track, this post is the result of a couple weeks of thought and reflection, and wasn't all originally written in one day. I'm now 23 weeks and 6 days.


First, a little about me. I'm the kind of person who avoids taking medicine, all kinds. I never take anything unless a particular malady is bad enough to interfere with my daily life, and if I have an option I will always try a non-medicinal cure first. When I have a headache I chug water or maybe try something caffeinated. If that doesn't work I give myself a neck rub, or if I have time I take a nap. I'm not anti-medicine. I always have over the counter pain killers of some kind in the house, and often some half used cold remedy (if it hasn't expired yet) as well. If my pounding headache will not lighten up and I have no time to nap I will gladly pop a couple pills to help me focus and get through the day. My attitude is more about need. If I don't feel I need the pain dulled or the cold symptoms lessened, I will tough it out. I am lucky; I do not suffer migraines or chronic headaches and get sick rarely enough that my cold and flu medicine keeps expiring on me. Not everyone has the luxury of feeling the need for medication as seldom as I do, and many people prefer the convenience of feeling better and lack my stubborn inner voice insisting that I don't really need to take anything.

As you may guess, one of my initial reasons for wanting to go for a natural childbirth is my aversion to using unnecessary pain medication. Another reason is curiosity; I want to see what it's like, to find out if I'm as tough as I think I am, if labor is really as unbearable as society would have me believe. I trust my body and I want to find out what it can do. There is evidence that epidurals can cause infants to be born sleepy and sluggish, which interferes with their immediate ability to begin breastfeeding. Since I intend to breastfeed and have been warned that my mother and grandmother both found it difficult to do so, I want as little interference as possible when it comes to establishing successful breastfeeding with my newborn. I will have at least an hour with my baby before they will want to weigh and measure her, and I want her functioning at her very best during that time.

There's also the idea that mother nature knows best, and if childbirth has been (mostly) successful done the old fashioned way since our species has existed, who am I to argue?  Doctors used to bleed sick people, mercury was used topically and ingested to treat all kinds of illnesses and injuries, and heroin was taken as cough medicine. At the time, these practices were cutting edge medicine! Obviously we have much higher standards for testing new treatments and technologies these days, and a much better understanding of the human body and how it works. But that doesn't mean that doctors always know best. Just because a practice has become mainstream and doesn't result in death or injury the vast majority of the time, doesn't mean it's always the best way to go. I'm lucky to live in a time when we have lifesaving technology and doctors with the years of training and knowledge to help in the small chance that something could go catastrophically wrong, but I have every reason to believe my birth will be normal and healthy.

I should mention that I know I may not get the birth experience that I want. I have been warned that it is important to be flexible when it comes to giving birth, because things happen to the healthiest women with the least complicated pregnancies and there is no way to see the future. If I don't go into labor on my own by 42 weeks as counted from my last menstrual cycle, steps will be taken to get the baby out ready or not. Lego was breech during the last ultrasound, and there is a small chance she won't flip to be head down. I know I will be disappointed, but of course the most important thing is ending up with a healthy baby. I also have no way of knowing how I will cope with labor, or if I will change my mind in the midst of it. So I guess a natural birth is more of a  birth preference than a birth plan.

I got a book from the library. It's called "Birth Matters, A Midwife's Manifesta" By Ina May Gaskin. I also have on hold a few other books about childbirth including her much more famous book, "Ina May's Guide to Childbirth", and have been waiting for several weeks to get it. Anyway, "Birth Matters" is the first book I have been able to read on the subject of childbirth since I've been pregnant, and in one day I was almost halfway through. The first part discusses childbirth as being natural, normal, and healthy, especially when attended by knowledgeable and sensitive women who know how to put the laboring woman at ease and give her confidence in her body's innate ability to give birth.

The author discusses hormones released during labor and how adrenaline, a fight or flight stress hormone, interferes with the process of labor and increases pain response, while oxytocin produced by the woman's body (not artificial oxytocin used to speed up or induce labor) not only aids labor but also reduces pain, helps her body open, and sends feelings of love and joy through the mother promoting bonding between her and her newborn. Oxytocin and adrenaline are produced inversely to each other; as levels of one go up, levels of the other go down.

The book describes how joyful birth can be, and painless. Yes, painless. Not for everyone (dang!), but even those who feel pain don't have to fear it or experience it as unbearable. A woman who feels safe and supported in a comfortable environment will produce little to no adrenaline, while a woman who has strangers coming unannounced in and out of her hospital room to take measurements and who discourage her from getting out of bed or eating or drinking will feel much more out of control and vulnerable, and will be more likely to experience pain and fear brought on by adrenaline.

The book includes birth stories, and the first one is by a woman who moved into a cabin next door to a midwife in a rural farming community, a few weeks before giving birth. While waiting for labor to begin she was visited daily by the midwife and spent the rest of her time walking and exploring, getting to know to locals, and just relaxing and reading. No stress, no worry, and no rush to get the baby out by a 42 week deadline. When she did go into labor the midwife stayed with her the whole time (no shift changes), helped her find ways to get her labor to progress, and encouraged her to follow her body's cues to eat or drink or move around and help the baby on it's way. After 26 hours (I think) of labor she gave birth to a healthy baby, with very minimal amounts of tearing. She stayed in the cabin another few weeks, visited daily by the midwife who made sure she was recovering physically and gave her emotional support and advice about caring for her newborn. I hope my birth experience can be half as pleasant.

Confession time. I was very tired after a long busy day, and full of pregnancy hormones while I was reading about all this. The feelings of relief and validation that came over me when the author described how good giving birth can be had me literally bawling. I felt like the author saw the tiny, terrified part I didn't even know was buried inside of me, and soothed it. She knows I can give birth the way I want to. My body was made to give birth. It was made to do so without need of medical interventions. I felt so empowered.

Mainstream society discourages women who want a natural childbirth: It will hurt too much, you will change your mind. Giving birth is dangerous, think of everything that can go wrong, think of your innocent baby. Why would anyone want to endure all that pain if they don't have to? Doctors know what you need better than you do, don't tell them how to do their job. It felt so wonderful to read confirmation of my own intuition; that in the animal kingdom, human women are not uniquely incapable of safe and healthy reproduction. Our pelvis may be one of a kind, but human women are just as good at giving birth as are monkeys, dogs, lions, elephants, and any other mammal. Our brains are what gets in the way, not our bodies.

One of the reasons I opted for the birth center and Nurse-Midwives at Swedish-Ballard is that I want care that approaches pregnancy and birth from a viewpoint of wellness and normalcy. Pregnancy is not a disease, and birth is a normal and natural biological function- not a pathological condition in need of curing. OB-Gyns may cognitively know that pregnancy and birth are normal and healthy, but in the US their training does not expose them to natural, uncomplicated childbirth that is allowed to progress as long as it takes. Most doctors and nurses never witness a birth that is not subjected to routine interventions like artificial oxytocin to speed things up, epidurals, and episiotomies. More likely than not the woman will be confined to bed, increasing the likelihood of a forceps or vacuum delivery, which increases the chances of damage to both mother and baby.

I'm not trying to knock OBs. They don't spend all that time and effort in school for nothing and they can and do save lives. But OBs are surgeons, and their training exposes them to situations that often require surgery. They are trained to treat problems, not how to recognize the difference between what is part of a normal birth (a lot of variety can be considered normal in childbirth, just like in every other aspect of human health) and what truly requires intervention. OBs also have to fear malpractice lawsuits in a society that increasingly demands medical and surgical intervention, and OBs get paid more by insurance companies for C-section deliveries than for vaginal deliveries. C-sections have the convenience of being predictably scheduled in a non-emergency and even in an emergency (or "emergency") they take a predictable amount of time, allowing the OB to know they will make it home for dinner.

The C-section rate in the US is up around 33% of births, when the World Health Organization recommends a 10-15% C-section rate. Disproportional numbers of babies are now born on weekdays between 9 and 5, and weekend births have dropped dramatically.  People, not just doctors, like to know when their baby will come so they can make plans and stay on schedule. C-sections are portrayed as easy surgeries, much quicker, cleaner, and more painless than vaginal deliveries. The recovery time of a C-section, which is a major abdominal surgery complete with risk of the list of complications that comes with any major surgery, is downplayed, even though it is longer and more painful than recovery from vaginal birth (unless there was severe tearing, which can happen if an infant is pulled out too quickly by vacuum or forceps, among other reasons).

I recently watched the documentary "Pregnant in America". It came out around the same time as "Business of Being Born", but had a much lower budget and much less experienced and influential director. Many of the same experts were interviewed in both films. The thing that stuck out to me about "Pregnant in America" was near the end, in an interview with a male doctor. He talked about one particular woman who, after hours of labor warned everyone in the room to get back, because she was having her baby NOW. She proceeded to give birth, and the doctor said that despite his having witnessed many other natural births, this was the first time he had ever seen a woman in her full power. He said it scared him, badly.

Ina May Gaskin talks about how she tells women to "let their monkey do it", meaning that women shouldn't try to think about how they will get their baby out, and instead let go and allow their inner wild animal to take over. She mentioned that when she gave birth she pictured herself as a lioness, powerful and beautiful.

When it comes time, that's what I want. I want to unleash my inner warrior princess and give birth like a goddess in all her glory. I want to calmly bring forth my child in an act of strength and beauty. I want my inner lioness-monkey to take command and give birth with a roar of triumph. I want to be savage, strong, and serene. I want to frighten the male doctor who won't actually be in the room to witness my power. Me and my baby were made for this, and I want to do it our way.