Penny's favorite word

Poop.

Lately when we walk the dog Penny insists on helping by carrying the bag of his poop. I can't decide whether to be appalled or thrilled about this.

Today Penny took a long nap and I took Bilbo out while she was still sleeping. After she woke up and ate a late lunch I decided we should head to the park. We ended up at a park we have never been to before, found by using Google maps when the park we originally intended to visit was discovered to be closed down for the winter. This new park turned out to be a walking trail down to a beach on Puget sound, so our outing became a walk in the woods. As we walked Penny noticed the bag I brought to pick up poop sticking out of my pocket.  She pointed and insisted "hep, hep" (help) and tried to grab it until I relented and let her carry the bag. She happily walked along with the empty plastic bag in one hand, occasionally stopping and proclaiming "Poop!" while holding the bag up for inspection.  I explained to her that yes, the bag for picking up Bilbo's poop, but he had pooped at home and so far there was nothing for us to pick up. She would smile and chase Bilbo with the bag for a bit (because that encourages pooping?) before taking my hand again. Eventually we came upon a small bunch of pine cones. Our conversation went something like this:

Penny, pointing- "Poop! Poop!"
Me- "Those are pine cones. Not poop."
Penny, still pointing, taking a few steps closer- "Poop! Poop, poop!"
Me- "It looks a lot like poop, but that isn't poop. Those are pine cones."
Penny, waving the bag- "Poop!"
"Pine cones."
"Poop! Poop!"
"No, pine cones."
"Poop!"
"Fine. We will pick them up."

So Penny happily carried a plastic bag full of pine cones for the rest of our walk. Anytime someone passed us, and going at toddler pace everyone passed us, she held up the bag and cheerfully told them "Poop!" So much for hello.

For some reason while we were walking I decided it would be a good idea to try to get a video of Penny's singing before she learns to carry a tune and incorporate more words than la, daddy, Bilbo, and mama. I was wrong.

"Penny, are you singing?"
"Lalala." Holding up bag, "Poop!"

"Penny, sing for me!"
"Lala poop. Poop! Poop!"

"Penny, let's sing. Lalala Bilbo, lalala daddy..."
"Poop!"

I did not get the video I was hoping for.

At least she is now pretty consistent about letting us know when she has a dirty diaper.

One is the Loveliest Number

Penny is walking well and working on speed these days. She was walking a bit by 11-12 months but it wasn't until a couple weeks after turning 1 that she really took off. She loves to find random household objects and carry them around, like a DVD or a letter or plastic container that she pulled out of the recycling bin.

Yesterday morning was chilly, so I put a sweater on her but didn't bother to zip it. I noticed it was falling off one shoulder when she disappeared into her room for a few minutes, and when she came back she was carrying it. She noticed one of my sweaters where I had left it on a chair and proceeded to pull it down and wrap it around herself and her favorite stuffed bunny. She failed to dress the bunny, but she wore my sweater draped over her shoulders for the rest of the morning, too cute!

__________________________________

I wrote the above section over two months ago. My intention was to go on writing about the thrills of parenting a one year old. And two months later I do still love parenting a one year old; The angry stubborn inconsolable screaming and holding her breath tantrums of the terrible twos (threes and fours?) show signs of hovering on the horizon but aren't something we have had to deal with much yet. She is curious and active and amazed at things to me are mundane. She gasped when a pair of seagulls took flight while we were at the park yesterday, for example. I love watching her try to figure things out and the look of joy and pride in her eyes when she finally succeeds at something. I love (and hate) watching her play in the dirt, exploring the texture and examining the particles and making a grand mess of herself and her clothes. I think it's hilarious (and infuriating) when she stands nicely beside me while checking out at the store and then, without warning, bolts at top speed. Oh right, she's pretty much got running down. I cannot get enough of her spontaneous displays of affection when she will decide to give Dan or myself or the dog a hug and kiss. My absolute favorite is "Ah la tee" (I love you). She is constantly learning new words and I love the way she closely examines my mouth when I'm trying to get her to say a certain new word. At 15 months Dan and I got curious and made a list of words she was saying. We came up with around 25 words plus some animal sounds! I am quite impressed. Recently she has started putting two words together, "deedee eye" (silly eye) when I cross my eyes at her, "Hi dog" to stranger's pets, "eat ah-poo" (eat apple) when she wants fruit because all round fruit is "apple" right now. She loves playing our tickle game during which I tickle her until she says "ah done" and start again when she gleefully calls for "mo" (more).

So, yeah. My one year old is pretty wonderful.

What we do

I made some edible finger paints today, and we played with them outside while having bare bottom time.

Delicious colors

Inspiration strikes!

Break for lunch

This baby can't handle any more fun

The masterpiece shortly before she peed on it.

Pocket full of Penny

Wow, my last post was when baby Penny was 2 (1/2) months old! This may be cliche, but my how time flies. I'm not going to make excuses for my lack of writing here. Priorities and stuff, you know how it goes. I never promised I would be a consistent blogger anyway.

 My baby is now nearing 11 months of ripe old age. The last 9 or so months have been quite a ride. Every stage of development is more fun than the last and it makes me sad to think it will end before long. But then the next stage comes along and I don't have time to mourn my tiny, helpless newborn because she is too busy discovering her hands and my mouth and her world and it's positively entrancing.

 Penny has been on time or ahead with almost all of her milestones, according to whatever the standard is that her doctor uses. She has also been on the low end of the weight curve and on the high end of the length curve. Her head circumference is right about 50%. Her feet and hands are still big.

 She likes Bilbo (the dog), apples, peas and sweet potatoes, wind in her face, story time, and giving high fives. She likes picking dandelions, chasing the dog, grabbing at my earrings which are consequently worn only rarely, and all our shoes. She crinkles her nose and grins, and wiggles side to side when she's happy. She babbles new sounds constantly, laughs when Bilbo escapes her grasp and leaves her on her belly watching him flee, and howls when we feed her something she finds less than delicious (asparagus). When she's tired, she touches her ear and stares into space. I'm pretty sure she spends at least half of her waking hours eating. She loves food. She still doesn't have any teeth. She says "ah-geum" and "mmmMMMM" and really high pitched "dat dat dat dah". She has recently started to say "Mama" when she wants me. She likes to hold my hand and walk unsteadily around the house or park. She likes to sleep stretched across her crib the short way, so her head and feet touch the sides. She's a cheerful, curious baby who never stops moving.

She is growing and changing almost faster than I can keep track of.

Parenting a newborn made my day slow down, sliding by like molasses. I was never quite sure what took up my days- I never seemed to be doing nothing but I never seemed to be terribly busy either. She was snuggly, fascinating, fragile, and perfect.

Parenting a baby who is closer to one than zero makes my day flash past, and at the end I only remember bits -like a movie montage. She grins, she giggles, she eats, she plays, she fusses. She naps, she wakes, she wants to be held, she wants to eat. We play, we sing, we read, we go outside, we snack. Suddenly she's eating dinner and it's almost bed time. I find myself wishing she would leave me alone sometimes, and just let me read or poop in peace. But when she naps extra long or Dan watches her so I can have some me time, I find myself missing her.

Today we went to Baby Story Time at the library. At the end I was standing with a couple mom friends, all of us holding our babies. Penny reached out and gently stroked the head and face of one of the other babies, playing with the ear and messing up the hair. It brought to mind the way we have been teaching her to touch Bilbo (gentle, don't pull!) and was so sweet and silly. The other moms were touched, but I was laughing so hard I almost peed myself. Babies and dogs, it turns out, should be touched in much the same way.

It's hard to explain what it feels like to be a mom. I keep realizing that I really never "got it" before I had a baby of my own. She fills my life and my heart to bursting. Every new parent says this but I really never knew I could love someone so much, so wholly and completely. It scares me a little, how totally I have fallen in love with her. Everything I described about her above is something I love about her, but I have realized that even if none of it were true I wouldn't love her an iota less than I do now. If she were short and chubby and hated food and had no interest in crawling or walking or peekaboo and only said "buh buh buh" and had a mouth brimming with teeth and slept in her crib in a more conventional direction, she would still be my perfect darling amazing baby.

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!