Alright. I think I might rant. Fair warning. Let's see how this turns out.
Why, when you announce a new milestone that has been reached in your young babies life, do other people (women especially) say things like "Oh, no. You're in trouble now."?
Here is an example: Dario rolled over from his tummy to his back. He had done it a few times before but it seemed like an accident then and this was definitely deliberate. He was four months old. This is great! He is using his body the way he is supposed to. He is reaching important milestones in his physical development. So with my excitement, I posted a short clip of the video I had recorded of our little fella in action. I was surprised at the response. Many of the comments that followed included "oh no" and "you're in trouble now" and "it won't be long until he's into everything".
Okay, so I'm a new mom. I don't "know" what it's like to stay at home with a toddler, I have never gone through those years myself. I have some idea. I have been around children, I have baby sat. I am also six years older than my brother and I remember how annoying he was to me when he was two or three. Still, why would reaching a new era in a persons physical development be received with gasps and frowns.
I know what is coming. I do. My baby will turn into a toddler, then a child. Soon after he'll somehow turn into a walking, talking, thinking, adult human being. Whoa. Amazing isn't it? I can forget that in the moment of playing with my infant son that he will be my age someday. If we are lucky. And there is my frustration with the negitivity. If we are lucky.
If we are lucky. Our child will roll over. He will learn to push himself up, respond to his name, crawl then walk, eat food and think for himself. We should be so lucky. Some would say "God willing". So when Dario rolls over we should all smile. He is a normal baby. He is able to roll over. He is alive and growing.
I know there are people who sigh at everything. Complain about everything. Use everything they can as an excuse. Those people may be frustrated that their baby starts to walk and talk. Annoyed when they cry out. They are bothered to wake at night, to have too cook for them, to pick up after them. Think about what happens then:
They interact with their children in a frustrated, annoyed way. Teaching their kid how to act frustrated and annoying. Then it seems they try to suppress every new thing the child does. Crawling or walking? They will be strapped in a high chair, sitting in a play pen or wrangled into a kiddie corral or plastic fenced in area in the house. Don't let them learn and explore because they don't want to deal with supervising this. How will a child learn anything if he isn't allowed to do anything? Don't want to clean up after them? Resent them and clean nothing instead. Then they will never learn how to clean up after themselves and they will get used to the idea that they are worthless and everyone resents them.
In my days as a receptionator (TM) scheduling appointments over the phone, I spoke with a lot of these parents. I would try to schedule an appointment and they would say "no, that time won't work. I will have to bring the kids with me." I would explain they are welcomed to bring children and we have a nice waiting area for everyone. They would seem frustrated with me that I would suggest it. "Oh, you don't know my kids." or "You won't want to have to listen to them."
Think about the message you're sending that child. "You are annoying and loud and no one wants you around because you don't know how to act."
How do you expect the child to know how to act appropriately in a public place if they are not allowed to go anywhere with you? A child needs trial and error. They need to test their boundaries. If you want your kid to be well behaved in a waiting room, bring them places with you and help them to learn what is good manners.
It is our job as parents to teach our kids to be polite, respectful and fun to be around. It is so much easier if they can learn these things before their cute wears off. Nothing is worse than an ungrateful, stink faced, awkward preteen glaring at you. Teach your kids please and thank you. How to decline an offer without hurting someones feelings. Teach them never to insult someones cooking. Teach them to wash their hands, clip their finger nails and not pick their nose in public. Sure, they're kids, they will need reminding. But practice makes perfect!
I know it will be hard for me the first time Dario throws a tantrum in a public place. I know this will happen. No matter how good a parent is, this is inevitable. There is a whole website named and dedicated to Reasons My Son is Crying. What really matters is how I react when he has that tantrum in the store. If I match his intensity and lose my cool, then I am the one who will look like an asshole. Then I will teach him that if he wants to really get mom's attention, then all he has to do is scream and cry in a public place. This will lead to more and more tantrums. As hard as it may be, if I can keep smiling as I drag him from the store, we will be okay. He will feel foolish and will learn how to control himself as he grows up.
Life. The minutes may be long but the days are short and the years even shorter. If I can only remember this after an eight hour day of a fussy screaming toddler. I need to remember he won't be that age for long. Tomorrow is new and I may find myself longing for yesterday. Why waste today? I challenge myself to smile and swell with happiness when Dario cries. He is tired and rubs his face and whimpers. This little Fussy Gus won't be this way for long. I will miss this, I know I will.
Don't forget we are lucky to be here today. Make the most of it.
My uterus is magic... It's all in the details, and there are plenty here. Ever wondered how all of this works? Here is one woman's story. Read along for a sarcastic, unfiltered journey through pregnancy with first time mom, Lanni Waschke: comedian, writer and one sick puppy. Here is too much information on the subject of pregnancy and birth from the mind of an all around snarky so and so.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Domestication and More
1. I should be writing. Why am I checking Facebook? There is nothing interesting there. I am tired of Buzzfeed telling me what I think in the form of a list's title. "23 Dogs You're Glad Aren't Yours" and "34 Things You Didn't Know Where in Your Kitchen". No. I know what is in my kitchen. What I don't know is why I'm on Facebook.
This happens. I open the laptop and decide to write. Dario is napping and I have 40 minutes to an hour. The dishes are done and dinner is prepped. Then I'm on Facebook without even realizing it at first and before you know it I hear Little D squirming around in his crib and party's over. No more time to write.
I'll just take this quiz real quick. "What Kind of Pizza Are You?" I really need to know.
-------
And there it is. It has been just about 5 months and 3 weeks since Dario was born and I haven't written much. I have been too busy to write most days. When I do have time, I feel I should be productive or sleep, but I am also feeling disenchanted with the internet right now. Blogs specifically.
I started using Pinterest with the idea of organizing recipes. Most of the links to recipes are from blogs. Blogs are not always good or reliable. You will find a good share of misspellings and errors on this blog along with my other two (Life with Blind Louie and Lanni's Recipe Box). But mistakes in a recipe? That's just mean. If I didn't know the basic fundamentals of cooking and building food out of ingredients to help me decide which recipes I should follow, I could have made many meal fails.
-------
So what are the rules to have a blog? None. The blogs that have pretty layouts with nice text and a good looking authors picture will get attention. Then the photography. It has to be good. Really good. You can just take your photos from the internet. The internet is full of photos! Gorgeous closeups of cookies, stacking in a tower with a piece of string tying a bow around them. There, of course, a glass of milk in the background. Why? Why is that a standard for every housewife's food blog? There has to be a stack of cookies tied up. I have never needed to tie a bunch of cookies.
-------
So I had started my food blog with the idea of organizing my recipes. After becoming frustrated with blogs, I turned to Pinterest which happens to be full of links to food blogs. I need to get out my cook books and dust of my recipe cards. I'm going to be cooking it old school.
-------
2. For five months, I have been staring at another person. He usually stares back. Dario is a baby human. He is a tiny growing man. I am so amazed by him.
It is really so cool to see someone learn to use their body. Literally, my baby does not know the full extent of his amazing body. Every day is learning and experimenting and repeating. Growing and strengthening muscles and trying new things. It is so neat to watch him figure things out on his own and then watch his excitement.
Now, Dario is only five months old so he doesn't know that many baby tricks yet. He just learned to stay sitting up without support. My puppy learned sit by 9 weeks so, is it really that impressive? Yes! His jelly muscles and big head on a floppy neck prevented him from sitting up when he was born. It pretty much prevented him for being able to do anything. Now look at him go! Look at him grow!
-------
3.We've tried solid food. Solid isn't really the correct word for what he ate. We made sweet potato for his first food. I peeled, cubed, steamed and blended the vegetable and mixed in some of the cooking liquid to make it runny enough to pour off the spoon. The reaction was priceless.
-------
I remember, when my cousins oldest boy was a baby, best thing ever was watching him try new food. I got to let him taste lemon for the first time and that was one of the most exciting moments of my life. Maybe of his life too.
-------
4. There are a lot of little things that we take for granted as adults. I know I do. Things like simply picking something up. We see it with our eyes and decide we want it. We reach out our arm and extend our hand and wrap our fingers around it, squeeze and pull it back toward our body. We all had to learn that. Having a baby is reminding me of how far I've come. People can gain this perspective after a debilitating accident. An injury causing you to lose a ability that you've forgotten you even have or need.
It's similar to losing a family member. When someone close to you dies, you remember that we will all die. That life is short and fleeting. You remember what is important. Possessions may seem insignificant. Little arguments you've had will seem silly.
-------
Here it is, my latest blog post. It has taken me over three weeks. Each section was written in a different sitting, on a different day. Each section was interrupted.
Usually I would start typing like this, jumping from subject to subject and this would have become five or six different posts and I would elaborate on each idea. Life doesn't really work like that anymore. I only have a limited time to write. Nap time. I make a cup of tea and get the laptop. I sit down, check facebook, look at a few recipes, read the news, check the weather. Open my blogger and start typing. Spending like 40 minutes just setting up.
I realized if I did not post this, I may never post again. So here it is. I will try and elaborate on certain topics as I intended in future posts. So I numbered topics for easy reference, hopefully this will help organize my thoughts.
This happens. I open the laptop and decide to write. Dario is napping and I have 40 minutes to an hour. The dishes are done and dinner is prepped. Then I'm on Facebook without even realizing it at first and before you know it I hear Little D squirming around in his crib and party's over. No more time to write.
I'll just take this quiz real quick. "What Kind of Pizza Are You?" I really need to know.
-------
And there it is. It has been just about 5 months and 3 weeks since Dario was born and I haven't written much. I have been too busy to write most days. When I do have time, I feel I should be productive or sleep, but I am also feeling disenchanted with the internet right now. Blogs specifically.
I started using Pinterest with the idea of organizing recipes. Most of the links to recipes are from blogs. Blogs are not always good or reliable. You will find a good share of misspellings and errors on this blog along with my other two (Life with Blind Louie and Lanni's Recipe Box). But mistakes in a recipe? That's just mean. If I didn't know the basic fundamentals of cooking and building food out of ingredients to help me decide which recipes I should follow, I could have made many meal fails.
-------
So what are the rules to have a blog? None. The blogs that have pretty layouts with nice text and a good looking authors picture will get attention. Then the photography. It has to be good. Really good. You can just take your photos from the internet. The internet is full of photos! Gorgeous closeups of cookies, stacking in a tower with a piece of string tying a bow around them. There, of course, a glass of milk in the background. Why? Why is that a standard for every housewife's food blog? There has to be a stack of cookies tied up. I have never needed to tie a bunch of cookies.
-------
So I had started my food blog with the idea of organizing my recipes. After becoming frustrated with blogs, I turned to Pinterest which happens to be full of links to food blogs. I need to get out my cook books and dust of my recipe cards. I'm going to be cooking it old school.
-------
2. For five months, I have been staring at another person. He usually stares back. Dario is a baby human. He is a tiny growing man. I am so amazed by him.
It is really so cool to see someone learn to use their body. Literally, my baby does not know the full extent of his amazing body. Every day is learning and experimenting and repeating. Growing and strengthening muscles and trying new things. It is so neat to watch him figure things out on his own and then watch his excitement.
Now, Dario is only five months old so he doesn't know that many baby tricks yet. He just learned to stay sitting up without support. My puppy learned sit by 9 weeks so, is it really that impressive? Yes! His jelly muscles and big head on a floppy neck prevented him from sitting up when he was born. It pretty much prevented him for being able to do anything. Now look at him go! Look at him grow!
-------
3.We've tried solid food. Solid isn't really the correct word for what he ate. We made sweet potato for his first food. I peeled, cubed, steamed and blended the vegetable and mixed in some of the cooking liquid to make it runny enough to pour off the spoon. The reaction was priceless.
-------
I remember, when my cousins oldest boy was a baby, best thing ever was watching him try new food. I got to let him taste lemon for the first time and that was one of the most exciting moments of my life. Maybe of his life too.
-------
4. There are a lot of little things that we take for granted as adults. I know I do. Things like simply picking something up. We see it with our eyes and decide we want it. We reach out our arm and extend our hand and wrap our fingers around it, squeeze and pull it back toward our body. We all had to learn that. Having a baby is reminding me of how far I've come. People can gain this perspective after a debilitating accident. An injury causing you to lose a ability that you've forgotten you even have or need.
It's similar to losing a family member. When someone close to you dies, you remember that we will all die. That life is short and fleeting. You remember what is important. Possessions may seem insignificant. Little arguments you've had will seem silly.
-------
Here it is, my latest blog post. It has taken me over three weeks. Each section was written in a different sitting, on a different day. Each section was interrupted.
Usually I would start typing like this, jumping from subject to subject and this would have become five or six different posts and I would elaborate on each idea. Life doesn't really work like that anymore. I only have a limited time to write. Nap time. I make a cup of tea and get the laptop. I sit down, check facebook, look at a few recipes, read the news, check the weather. Open my blogger and start typing. Spending like 40 minutes just setting up.
I realized if I did not post this, I may never post again. So here it is. I will try and elaborate on certain topics as I intended in future posts. So I numbered topics for easy reference, hopefully this will help organize my thoughts.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
And Then There Was Dario
We had a baby. It was awesome. I did it! No drugs! I remember every detail. I got super high, naturally. The body is an amazing thing. I am still impressed when I think about it.
After giving birth, there I was, in a hospital with my husband and our new son. My mom headed out right after he was born to give us time to bond and rest. The nurses cleaned up and moved out. It was just us, our little family. Paul, Lanni and Dario. Starting our life together.
So much had changed with my body in such a short time. My big hard belly was gone. I had lost a lot of blood. I had a third degree tear and a bunch of stitches. I did not know what this meant at the time and I really didn't care. I had this beautiful baby in my arms!
I tried to breast feed for the first time not long after he was born. He got it right away. I felt awkward trying to find a comfortable position to hold him. I also felt like I was suffocating him with my giant boob. The nurse helped and reassured me. My husband just kept reminding me that I needed to "push the milk out" and he would flex his arms and chest and make grunting sounds. I love him because he can always make me laugh, but I'm pretty sure that's not how that works.
A strange part about nursing initially was that it caused more contractions. I really didn't remember reading about that. Nursing makes your body make oxytocin, it makes you feel good, bond with your baby and it contracts your uterus to help it shrink back down to size. Very interesting how it all works.
Just after the little guy latched on I was suddenly ravenously hungry and super thirsty. I figure this is where I would be tempted to eat my young if he wasn't so cute and I wasn't all loopy from the hormones. The nurse seemed to know that I would be hungry and brought me whatever she could find since the kitchen was already closed. A half a sandwich, a small bag of pretzels, a banana, a cookie and some juice. She also filled my water jug with the best ice water I had ever had. I hadn't eaten for over 14 hours, that was a super long time for a pregnant lady.
I slept, a little, when the baby slept. A nurse came in the room every hour to check the babies temperature and listen to his heartbeat. I tried nursing every two hours. Dario didn't hardly cry at all that first night. He fussed a little and I would talk to him and he would settle right back down.
We stayed another day and night in the hospital and checked out in the morning. I guess it's called discharge when you leave the hospital, not check out time, but whatever. It wasn't like a regular hospital experience. It wasn't like I was in the ER or had some kind of traumatic injury or surgery. I've decided I'll call it check out time.
The ride home from the hospital was surreal. I rode in the back with Dario. He looked so little in the car seat. His body was mush and he couldn't hold his head back at all. I found myself holding his head the whole drive home, just staring at him. Many hours of just staring at him have followed, and many more are still to come I'm sure.
In my upcoming posts, I will try to go week by week. I am catching up from a lack of writing. For six weeks I have only taken notes. So many changes are happening everyday. I hope to note them here for us to look back on someday. I also hope that my friends and family that aren't close by will enjoy reading, and if someone stumbles on this that has a young child they may take something from it.
After giving birth, there I was, in a hospital with my husband and our new son. My mom headed out right after he was born to give us time to bond and rest. The nurses cleaned up and moved out. It was just us, our little family. Paul, Lanni and Dario. Starting our life together.
So much had changed with my body in such a short time. My big hard belly was gone. I had lost a lot of blood. I had a third degree tear and a bunch of stitches. I did not know what this meant at the time and I really didn't care. I had this beautiful baby in my arms!
I tried to breast feed for the first time not long after he was born. He got it right away. I felt awkward trying to find a comfortable position to hold him. I also felt like I was suffocating him with my giant boob. The nurse helped and reassured me. My husband just kept reminding me that I needed to "push the milk out" and he would flex his arms and chest and make grunting sounds. I love him because he can always make me laugh, but I'm pretty sure that's not how that works.
A strange part about nursing initially was that it caused more contractions. I really didn't remember reading about that. Nursing makes your body make oxytocin, it makes you feel good, bond with your baby and it contracts your uterus to help it shrink back down to size. Very interesting how it all works.
Just after the little guy latched on I was suddenly ravenously hungry and super thirsty. I figure this is where I would be tempted to eat my young if he wasn't so cute and I wasn't all loopy from the hormones. The nurse seemed to know that I would be hungry and brought me whatever she could find since the kitchen was already closed. A half a sandwich, a small bag of pretzels, a banana, a cookie and some juice. She also filled my water jug with the best ice water I had ever had. I hadn't eaten for over 14 hours, that was a super long time for a pregnant lady.
I slept, a little, when the baby slept. A nurse came in the room every hour to check the babies temperature and listen to his heartbeat. I tried nursing every two hours. Dario didn't hardly cry at all that first night. He fussed a little and I would talk to him and he would settle right back down.
We stayed another day and night in the hospital and checked out in the morning. I guess it's called discharge when you leave the hospital, not check out time, but whatever. It wasn't like a regular hospital experience. It wasn't like I was in the ER or had some kind of traumatic injury or surgery. I've decided I'll call it check out time.
The ride home from the hospital was surreal. I rode in the back with Dario. He looked so little in the car seat. His body was mush and he couldn't hold his head back at all. I found myself holding his head the whole drive home, just staring at him. Many hours of just staring at him have followed, and many more are still to come I'm sure.
In my upcoming posts, I will try to go week by week. I am catching up from a lack of writing. For six weeks I have only taken notes. So many changes are happening everyday. I hope to note them here for us to look back on someday. I also hope that my friends and family that aren't close by will enjoy reading, and if someone stumbles on this that has a young child they may take something from it.
![]() |
| Me and Dario, 10/21/2013, 1 day old. |
Monday, December 2, 2013
How to Lose 15 lbs in 12 Hours! (Part 2)
We kept on with the same after the doctor left. I would have a
contraction every few minutes where I would pause and breathe and focus
on relaxing. Time went by, nurses came and went. They checked my blood
pressure and made sure the babies heart rate was good and staying steady
through my contractions. Everything was fine. My doctor said I didn't
need to be hooked up to the fetal monitors and that they could check his
heartbeat intermittently. When the nurse came in I told her that and
she laughed at me. This was the only nurse that I was not happy with.
Everyone else there was amazing.
She went and talked to my doctor and confirmed what I had said. Apparently there is some sort of hospital regulation that you have to check the vitals every 20 minutes or something. So they found some monitors that were wireless to hook me to where I could still move around. The monitors would not stay in place and the not-so-great nurse was getting frustrated trying to find the heartbeat. I knew we were fine and I was trying, and doing well, not letting that nurses frustration and worry rub off on me.
At 2:00 or so my doctor came back and checked me. I was 8cm. She was pleased with the progress and thought that it wouldn't be long until the baby was here. What a relief. Because I was handling the contractions so well, I started to doubt that they were strong enough to make any progress. That was just a fleeting thought and I put it out of my mind, but it was still great to hear the doctors update and know we were getting closer to meeting our baby.
I paced, I sat on the yoga ball, I stretched, I sat on the couch with my husband. We made jokes, laughed, watched Futurama on TV, took pictures. I got a back rub anytime I asked. I was pretty fun. Awesome. The most fun vacation in the most expensive hotel I've ever been to.
It was around five or six o'clock. I was starting to get tired but I was too excited to really nap. My doctor came again and checked me. I was still 8cm. How disappointing. My doctor was concerned about my stalled progress. She said she was surprised I wasn't budging because I was doing everything 'right', walking around, bouncing on the yoga ball, staying upright. She suggested Pitocin. I was double disappointed. I had really not wanted Pitocin. I had made it this far with no pain meds. Can we wait, what should I do?
I agreed the Pitocin after my doctor explained, we decided we would start at the lowest dose possible and give that a while and see what happens. There it was, an annoying nurse, medical intervention. If I had written out a meticulous birth plan and set myself up with unrealistic expectations this is where I would have been super disappointed. The wind would have been knocked out of me. But I didn't. I knew this was okay. This was my story, this was the story of my sons birth. Here we go.
It didn't take long for the Pitocin to start changing my contractions. These were much more intense. Legs shaking, stomach turning. I swore, I called to Jesus, I asked for my mommy. At 7pm there was a shift change and the nurse that was bugging me all day was leaving. Thank God. With these new more intense contractions it would be more difficult to deal with her. The new nurse walked in and knew just what to do. She immediately knew I was close. My doctor checked and I was about 9 1/2cm dilated now. They said I could try to push. First I was on my hands and knees. I was rocking back and forth. Then everything started whirling by me.
More nurses came in. The doctor started to change into her scrubs. The nurse told her to hurry up because the baby was coming. My husband was by my side putting cold towels on my forehead and the back of my neck. I started making hilarious jokes. I said 'Oh, this is when you stop caring if everyone sees you naked.' and 'I'm pretty sure I'm just going to shit all over everyone.' Paul said "Go ahead and shit honey, they don't care, they're getting paid for this."
"Fuck, shit, holy mother of God, Jesus Christ, what the fuck, no No NO!"
Pushing. I thought I had been on the bed pushing only for a few minutes. It's like taking LSD. It's one crazy trip. Sights, sounds, colors, smells, sensations. Everything was there but disjointed and messy. Pushing was hard. I felt out of shape. I was sure I was doing it wrong and I was just going to poop. The doctor reassured me that it was the baby.
I pushed again. I heard someone say "There's the head!". I reached down and felt my baby's head, it was so warm. I felt he had hair. Just the very top of his head was out. I heard my doctor say something had dropped and she told a nurse to call pediatrics. Next thing I know there are two men in the room and more nurses. I saw a scalpel or scissors or some sharp object and didn't care. That would have been on my birth plan: no episiotomy. I would rather tear on my own if I've got to.
Then my doctor says "One more push and you'll meet your baby". I heard my husband gasp. I kept asking him if he was okay. Then came the contraction. I pulled my legs back, put my chin to my chest and gave it all I had left. I felt his head come out, shoulders and then someone grabbed him and put him up on my chest. Two nurses were toweling him off. He was full size! Good looking. A real baby. Oh. My. God. That just happened.
And then he cried. Time stopped. All pain went away. I was just my husband and I looking at our child. It was exhilarating. The next thing I remembered was the doctor telling me she was giving me a local anesthetic to numb me a little while she stitched me up. I felt it. I felt the injection. I felt the pulling. I felt the stitches run through. The whole area wasn't numb but I didn't even care. I was holding my baby, and I was in love with him!!!
It took a long time for the stitches. They took the baby over to a warming table and measured him and checked over everything. My mom and my husband stood around him. He was rated 9 out of 10 on the APGAR scale. He was 8lbs 11oz and 21 1/4 inches long. He was perfect. PERFECT!!! There has never been a better baby in all of human history. Now I know what every mother has felt. It truely is amazing.
She went and talked to my doctor and confirmed what I had said. Apparently there is some sort of hospital regulation that you have to check the vitals every 20 minutes or something. So they found some monitors that were wireless to hook me to where I could still move around. The monitors would not stay in place and the not-so-great nurse was getting frustrated trying to find the heartbeat. I knew we were fine and I was trying, and doing well, not letting that nurses frustration and worry rub off on me.
At 2:00 or so my doctor came back and checked me. I was 8cm. She was pleased with the progress and thought that it wouldn't be long until the baby was here. What a relief. Because I was handling the contractions so well, I started to doubt that they were strong enough to make any progress. That was just a fleeting thought and I put it out of my mind, but it was still great to hear the doctors update and know we were getting closer to meeting our baby.
I paced, I sat on the yoga ball, I stretched, I sat on the couch with my husband. We made jokes, laughed, watched Futurama on TV, took pictures. I got a back rub anytime I asked. I was pretty fun. Awesome. The most fun vacation in the most expensive hotel I've ever been to.
It was around five or six o'clock. I was starting to get tired but I was too excited to really nap. My doctor came again and checked me. I was still 8cm. How disappointing. My doctor was concerned about my stalled progress. She said she was surprised I wasn't budging because I was doing everything 'right', walking around, bouncing on the yoga ball, staying upright. She suggested Pitocin. I was double disappointed. I had really not wanted Pitocin. I had made it this far with no pain meds. Can we wait, what should I do?
I agreed the Pitocin after my doctor explained, we decided we would start at the lowest dose possible and give that a while and see what happens. There it was, an annoying nurse, medical intervention. If I had written out a meticulous birth plan and set myself up with unrealistic expectations this is where I would have been super disappointed. The wind would have been knocked out of me. But I didn't. I knew this was okay. This was my story, this was the story of my sons birth. Here we go.
It didn't take long for the Pitocin to start changing my contractions. These were much more intense. Legs shaking, stomach turning. I swore, I called to Jesus, I asked for my mommy. At 7pm there was a shift change and the nurse that was bugging me all day was leaving. Thank God. With these new more intense contractions it would be more difficult to deal with her. The new nurse walked in and knew just what to do. She immediately knew I was close. My doctor checked and I was about 9 1/2cm dilated now. They said I could try to push. First I was on my hands and knees. I was rocking back and forth. Then everything started whirling by me.
More nurses came in. The doctor started to change into her scrubs. The nurse told her to hurry up because the baby was coming. My husband was by my side putting cold towels on my forehead and the back of my neck. I started making hilarious jokes. I said 'Oh, this is when you stop caring if everyone sees you naked.' and 'I'm pretty sure I'm just going to shit all over everyone.' Paul said "Go ahead and shit honey, they don't care, they're getting paid for this."
"Fuck, shit, holy mother of God, Jesus Christ, what the fuck, no No NO!"
Pushing. I thought I had been on the bed pushing only for a few minutes. It's like taking LSD. It's one crazy trip. Sights, sounds, colors, smells, sensations. Everything was there but disjointed and messy. Pushing was hard. I felt out of shape. I was sure I was doing it wrong and I was just going to poop. The doctor reassured me that it was the baby.
I pushed again. I heard someone say "There's the head!". I reached down and felt my baby's head, it was so warm. I felt he had hair. Just the very top of his head was out. I heard my doctor say something had dropped and she told a nurse to call pediatrics. Next thing I know there are two men in the room and more nurses. I saw a scalpel or scissors or some sharp object and didn't care. That would have been on my birth plan: no episiotomy. I would rather tear on my own if I've got to.
Then my doctor says "One more push and you'll meet your baby". I heard my husband gasp. I kept asking him if he was okay. Then came the contraction. I pulled my legs back, put my chin to my chest and gave it all I had left. I felt his head come out, shoulders and then someone grabbed him and put him up on my chest. Two nurses were toweling him off. He was full size! Good looking. A real baby. Oh. My. God. That just happened.
And then he cried. Time stopped. All pain went away. I was just my husband and I looking at our child. It was exhilarating. The next thing I remembered was the doctor telling me she was giving me a local anesthetic to numb me a little while she stitched me up. I felt it. I felt the injection. I felt the pulling. I felt the stitches run through. The whole area wasn't numb but I didn't even care. I was holding my baby, and I was in love with him!!!
It took a long time for the stitches. They took the baby over to a warming table and measured him and checked over everything. My mom and my husband stood around him. He was rated 9 out of 10 on the APGAR scale. He was 8lbs 11oz and 21 1/4 inches long. He was perfect. PERFECT!!! There has never been a better baby in all of human history. Now I know what every mother has felt. It truely is amazing.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
How to Lose 15lbs in 12 Hours! (Part 1)
Well, the inevitable happened. The day came. The moment we've all been waiting for. A tiny human was born. My baby vacated my magic uterus. He is born. World, this is Dario. Dario, World.
Right now he is sleeping. If that isn't happening he is eating or having his diaper changed. There are small amounts of time where we visit and I talk to him and he looks at me with big dark blue-grey bloodshot eyes and makes funny faces. I am completely, utterly, obsessively in love.
How did it happen? There was so much time I spent just thinking about all the different ways I could bring him into this world. No matter how much I thought about it, no matter how much I wondered or how many stories I read, nothing could prepare me for the actual day.
It was Saturday night. We went to bed early. Paul wasn't feeling well, he had just come down with a cold. We were both asleep by 8:30 or so. I woke up to use the bathroom a couple of times. Paul woke up with me at about 2:30am. He took some Tylenol and drank some water. His cold was really manifesting itself. It's strange because he's rarely sick. He has only had a cold one, maybe two other times since we met. We joked about how it wasn't convenient to be sick when we were so close to expecting the baby to arrive. Then we talked about how we would need to make a plan to be induced at our appointment on Thursday since nothing was happening. I got up to use the bathroom before we both drifted back to sleep. I felt something funny in my belly and when I got to the bathroom I thought I had already started to pee. Or was it?
Sure, I thought I was a little leaky. No big deal. The baby was napping on my bladder again and he was really running out of room. I could only hold a few tablespoons of urine at a time it seemed. I'm bound to accidentally squeeze some out, right? I went back to bed. I woke up again at about 6:30am. I was wet. I knew I did not wet the bed. I was dreaming of having contractions and doing a great job staying calm and relaxed through each one. I was well rested after about 10 hours of sleep. I knew that my water had broken. It was a slow leak, not the tsunami you see on the movies, but I knew what it was. Just after standing up I started to have some light contractions. This is it. It is? I woke up Paul.
I told him softly that I thought my water had broken, and that I needed to call the childbirth center to see what we needed to do. I told him to take a shower and to get the hospital bag I had packed along with the diaper bag ready. I got dressed, ate a bagel and cream cheese, fed the dogs and called my mom. I told her we'd call her if we were admitted to the hospital and she could come down if she wanted to. I was sitting on a chair on my back porch when I realised I was totally stalling. I didn't really want to go to the hospital. I had hoped that my labor would start and get strong without my water breaking so I could spend all my early labor at home. Oh well, I cannot choose. I just have to go in and see what will happen.
I went back inside and realised I hadn't even called the child birth center yet to tell them we were coming. I called and they said they could check the fluid to see if it was my water and they'd go from there. We put our things in the car and left the house around 7:30am. We got the the hospital before 8am and were in a room talking with a nurse shortly after. She checked and said it was, of course, that my water had broken. They hooked me up to the monitors and saw I was having regular contractions and they were only about 3 minutes apart. She went and called my doctor.
The nurse came back in the room and said she'd called the doc and told her my water had broken, I was having regular contractions that looked strong on the machine but that I couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel them? What? I asked. She said, since I was calm and still able to talk with her that I must not be feeling them. I assured her that I was definitely feeling it, I was just choosing to stay calm and focused. She was surprised and seemed skeptical and took us to a labor and delivery room to get settled. My doctor would be there soon to check me. We called my mom.
When my doctor got there it was just before 11am. I was dealing really well with the contractions. Paul, my mom and I were talking and laughing and just wasting time while we waited. The doc checked and said I was already 6cm dilated. Nice. Everyone was shocked that I was that far along and I wasn't complaining or crying or asking for drugs. This was going to be a piece of cake.
Ha!
To Be Continued...
Right now he is sleeping. If that isn't happening he is eating or having his diaper changed. There are small amounts of time where we visit and I talk to him and he looks at me with big dark blue-grey bloodshot eyes and makes funny faces. I am completely, utterly, obsessively in love.
How did it happen? There was so much time I spent just thinking about all the different ways I could bring him into this world. No matter how much I thought about it, no matter how much I wondered or how many stories I read, nothing could prepare me for the actual day.
It was Saturday night. We went to bed early. Paul wasn't feeling well, he had just come down with a cold. We were both asleep by 8:30 or so. I woke up to use the bathroom a couple of times. Paul woke up with me at about 2:30am. He took some Tylenol and drank some water. His cold was really manifesting itself. It's strange because he's rarely sick. He has only had a cold one, maybe two other times since we met. We joked about how it wasn't convenient to be sick when we were so close to expecting the baby to arrive. Then we talked about how we would need to make a plan to be induced at our appointment on Thursday since nothing was happening. I got up to use the bathroom before we both drifted back to sleep. I felt something funny in my belly and when I got to the bathroom I thought I had already started to pee. Or was it?
Sure, I thought I was a little leaky. No big deal. The baby was napping on my bladder again and he was really running out of room. I could only hold a few tablespoons of urine at a time it seemed. I'm bound to accidentally squeeze some out, right? I went back to bed. I woke up again at about 6:30am. I was wet. I knew I did not wet the bed. I was dreaming of having contractions and doing a great job staying calm and relaxed through each one. I was well rested after about 10 hours of sleep. I knew that my water had broken. It was a slow leak, not the tsunami you see on the movies, but I knew what it was. Just after standing up I started to have some light contractions. This is it. It is? I woke up Paul.
I told him softly that I thought my water had broken, and that I needed to call the childbirth center to see what we needed to do. I told him to take a shower and to get the hospital bag I had packed along with the diaper bag ready. I got dressed, ate a bagel and cream cheese, fed the dogs and called my mom. I told her we'd call her if we were admitted to the hospital and she could come down if she wanted to. I was sitting on a chair on my back porch when I realised I was totally stalling. I didn't really want to go to the hospital. I had hoped that my labor would start and get strong without my water breaking so I could spend all my early labor at home. Oh well, I cannot choose. I just have to go in and see what will happen.
I went back inside and realised I hadn't even called the child birth center yet to tell them we were coming. I called and they said they could check the fluid to see if it was my water and they'd go from there. We put our things in the car and left the house around 7:30am. We got the the hospital before 8am and were in a room talking with a nurse shortly after. She checked and said it was, of course, that my water had broken. They hooked me up to the monitors and saw I was having regular contractions and they were only about 3 minutes apart. She went and called my doctor.
The nurse came back in the room and said she'd called the doc and told her my water had broken, I was having regular contractions that looked strong on the machine but that I couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel them? What? I asked. She said, since I was calm and still able to talk with her that I must not be feeling them. I assured her that I was definitely feeling it, I was just choosing to stay calm and focused. She was surprised and seemed skeptical and took us to a labor and delivery room to get settled. My doctor would be there soon to check me. We called my mom.
When my doctor got there it was just before 11am. I was dealing really well with the contractions. Paul, my mom and I were talking and laughing and just wasting time while we waited. The doc checked and said I was already 6cm dilated. Nice. Everyone was shocked that I was that far along and I wasn't complaining or crying or asking for drugs. This was going to be a piece of cake.
Ha!
To Be Continued...
Friday, October 18, 2013
Saying Goodbye to My Fetus and Hello to My Baby
| From our birth announcement |
How do they come up with that due date anyway? The doctor calculated from the first day of my last menstrual period 40 weeks out, and that is the date. There are other factors. That date is assuming that I have a 'normal' 28 day cycle. If it's longer than 28 days then the delivery date could be later. When I had my first ultrasound at about 12 weeks the tech said she'd pick my due date for October 19th. They calculate that date by the measurements they take of the baby. My next ultrasound at 20 weeks, the same tech said with these new measurements she would say October 18th.
Here we are, it is October 18th. Maybe today? Maybe tomorrow? Everyone is so anxious. People keep calling, writing, texting. Anything? Anything yet? How about now? Ahhh! It's hard for me, I feel good. Yes I am having some cramping and back pain on and off. I do know I am not currently in active labor and I don't know when this will happen.
This is a struggle for me mentally. On one hand, I want to meet this person that has grown inside of my body. My baby, my son. I want my husband to meet his son. I see how excited he is and I know it will be amazing to see him with this baby. He is not a 'baby guy' but he is already head over heels in love with his son. I want to see what our baby looks like, smells like, how much he weighs, what his cry sounds like. I want to try breastfeeding, changing his diaper, laying him down for bed in his crib. I want to have our dogs meet him. I want to see their reactions. I want to be a mother. I want to make my mother a grandmother. So many positives, so much excitement. So much unknown!
On the other hand, in the beginning I had to really spend a lot of energy deciding to be happy while pregnant. I have tried to enjoy each day, each strange symptom and each new change to my body because I know it is temporary. If I whined and complained the whole time, what a waste it would be! I have really grown comfortable with my baby inside my magic uterus. Felling his movements, his kicks. I know the times of the day when he will be up and active. I start to anticipate his movements and then, there he is. I like getting his hiccups with him. I feel them, just the same motion as when I have them myself, only they are inside my belly and not in my chest and throat. And those hiccups are so tiny and cute. I know when I feel a left foot, right foot a hand or a head. I know when he's sticking his butt out really far and my belly bulges to one side or the other. I know I will miss that. I will miss being able to take him everywhere with me, hands free. Being about to take him to work with me. I've known all along this is temporary, but now that it's time, it is almost sad to let it go.
When our son is born, his infancy will be so temporary. The time when he will be essentially a tiny fetus outside of the womb will last a matter of weeks. Then he will be cooing and smiling and growing bigger. Soon he will be teething, sitting up, standing then walking. Before we know it he will be asking for the keys to the flying car or use of our teleportation machine or whatever kind of transportation we will have in the future. Every moment we have is temporary. Every stage of life is fleeting. We have to savor each moment, even the difficult ones.
I think part of me going into labor needs to be me mourning the loss of my fetus and celebrating the birth of my baby. Mourning the loss of my life with my husband as we know it and celebrating the start of our family. I need to tell him I am ready for him to come out and start the next chapter of his life with us. I need to be okay with sharing my baby with the rest of the world. There is no going back. Right now, I need to come to terms with getting ready to enjoy this birthing experience. This transition to moving him outside of my body. Sure there will be pain they say. There will be blood and gore and hospitals. I will not be scared. I will enjoy every moment of it. This will be the last big party for my fetus and the first big party for our babies birthday.
I'll get out my pointy party hat, streamers and noise makers. I am ready for this. Lets go.
40 Week Doctors Appointment
Our doctors appointment yesterday went
well. I am progressing. I am now 2cm dilated and 80% effaced. (Last week
I was 1cm dilated and 50% effaced). My doctor seems excited. She said that I am moving along quite well. The more effaced that I am when I go into labor the easier it will be.
My doc and I talk about when it will be time to go to the hospital at almost every appointment. She says the contractions should be about 1 minute in length and about 5 minutes apart. They should hold that pattern for about an hour before we go to the hospital. She said the longer I can labor at home the better. She did say however, that those contractions need to be very strong, not just consistent for that to be active labor. She told us that when I start to go, 'oh, okay. I see why people talk about how painful this is." or "Now I get why ladies choose to get an epidural!" then it is time and we should be on the way. A rule of thumb is that if you have to ask yourself if you are in active labor, you are not. You will know.
Our doctor has been doing this a long time. Longer than I have been alive. She told me that nothing can describe the feeling I will have. She had seen a ton of babies born and knew what to expect and seen first hand what women go through and she said she was still surprised when she went into labor with her first born. That prompted me to ask her how many babies she thought she'd delivered. She was quiet for a moment and thought about it. "About 1,000." she said. Wow, how amazing. She has seen it all I am sure. Every style of delivery from emergencies to text book. C Sections, forceps, vacuum, medicated, unmedicated and all the rest I don't even know about.
I feel so lucky to have her on our side. To have known her since I was a kid. To have had her take care of me anytime I was sick growing up. To have had her take care of my mother all these years. and now have her here at this most important time of my life and she will be there for our baby. I feel so lucky to feel so comfortable with our doctor. To have someone so well trained and certified, that is also so intuitive and caring and has so much real world, hands on experience. We are lucky beyond words.
My doc and I talk about when it will be time to go to the hospital at almost every appointment. She says the contractions should be about 1 minute in length and about 5 minutes apart. They should hold that pattern for about an hour before we go to the hospital. She said the longer I can labor at home the better. She did say however, that those contractions need to be very strong, not just consistent for that to be active labor. She told us that when I start to go, 'oh, okay. I see why people talk about how painful this is." or "Now I get why ladies choose to get an epidural!" then it is time and we should be on the way. A rule of thumb is that if you have to ask yourself if you are in active labor, you are not. You will know.
Our doctor has been doing this a long time. Longer than I have been alive. She told me that nothing can describe the feeling I will have. She had seen a ton of babies born and knew what to expect and seen first hand what women go through and she said she was still surprised when she went into labor with her first born. That prompted me to ask her how many babies she thought she'd delivered. She was quiet for a moment and thought about it. "About 1,000." she said. Wow, how amazing. She has seen it all I am sure. Every style of delivery from emergencies to text book. C Sections, forceps, vacuum, medicated, unmedicated and all the rest I don't even know about.
I feel so lucky to have her on our side. To have known her since I was a kid. To have had her take care of me anytime I was sick growing up. To have had her take care of my mother all these years. and now have her here at this most important time of my life and she will be there for our baby. I feel so lucky to feel so comfortable with our doctor. To have someone so well trained and certified, that is also so intuitive and caring and has so much real world, hands on experience. We are lucky beyond words.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Enjoying Killing Time
One more day until my due date. One week off of work already. Waiting feels surreal. Most of every moment is consumed by thoughts of parenthood, baby, infant, son, labor, birth. Questions, not worries, but thoughts and questions. A simple thought and question followed by a long and detailed daydream of what may occur. What if they come out and it's actually a girl? What will we name her? What if I try my hardest and still end up having a c section? What if I feel pressured by hospital staff into using drugs? What if everything goes just as I hope? What if I sneak my dogs into the room with me so we don't have to leave them at home? What if I accidentally poop on the bed? What if this isn't a baby at all and I just have to take a really big dump? What if it's twins? What if it's a puppy? or a whole litter of puppies!!?
This could go on for hours... days. And it has!
So, when will this happen? I could still be waiting another two weeks! I'm starting to understand why a woman would want to be induced after she's gone past her due date instead of waiting. It's not exactly that I'm uncomfortable. Although I am, it is completely bearable. It's not just because I'm impatient, I've already waited this long. It's more because I am waiting for something inevitable but I have no idea or control over when it will come! What else in life is like this? So inevitable, so prolonged and yet, so unpredictable. I cannot think of another time in my life that was anything like this. This waiting. This anticipation. You know what is going to happen but you really know nothing of when or where or the details.This could be maddening if you let it.
Instead I try to clean, cook, walk around. Pet my dogs. Spend time with my husband. Eat, sleep, read, watch TV. I write, I've read every booklet and instruction manual on every new device we got for the baby. Everything we have has been assembled, washed, cleaned, and washed again. Laundry is done, dinner is made for the next three days. I've even made some meals and frozen them so we have healthy delicious choices when we are tired after coming home from the hospital.
My husband is on call, his phone is charged. He is ready to go. I know he is excited. He is eager. He wants to meet his first born. He has been hoping for this for 3 weeks! I'm sorry, I wish I could deliver. Haha, Pun intended.
Still I'll wait. Now I'll shower, get dressed and go somewhere. I will try to take my mind off the waiting for the unknown. I will walk around in a store, go to a park and maybe bake some cookies later. Don't forget the nap.
This could go on for hours... days. And it has!
So, when will this happen? I could still be waiting another two weeks! I'm starting to understand why a woman would want to be induced after she's gone past her due date instead of waiting. It's not exactly that I'm uncomfortable. Although I am, it is completely bearable. It's not just because I'm impatient, I've already waited this long. It's more because I am waiting for something inevitable but I have no idea or control over when it will come! What else in life is like this? So inevitable, so prolonged and yet, so unpredictable. I cannot think of another time in my life that was anything like this. This waiting. This anticipation. You know what is going to happen but you really know nothing of when or where or the details.This could be maddening if you let it.
Instead I try to clean, cook, walk around. Pet my dogs. Spend time with my husband. Eat, sleep, read, watch TV. I write, I've read every booklet and instruction manual on every new device we got for the baby. Everything we have has been assembled, washed, cleaned, and washed again. Laundry is done, dinner is made for the next three days. I've even made some meals and frozen them so we have healthy delicious choices when we are tired after coming home from the hospital.
My husband is on call, his phone is charged. He is ready to go. I know he is excited. He is eager. He wants to meet his first born. He has been hoping for this for 3 weeks! I'm sorry, I wish I could deliver. Haha, Pun intended.
Still I'll wait. Now I'll shower, get dressed and go somewhere. I will try to take my mind off the waiting for the unknown. I will walk around in a store, go to a park and maybe bake some cookies later. Don't forget the nap.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
39 Week Check Up / What About Induction?
We went to the doctors on Thursday. My 39 week check up. There again was a healthy baby heartbeat. It has been many times we have heard that rhythmic sound but it does not get old or boring. It does, however, get old to have to wait for the doctor sitting on a piece of butcher paper with no pants on with a giant napkin for a blanket covering my lap. But hey, what can you do?
So, blood pressure was good, baby's heartbeat was good and no other bad symptoms or warning signs of trouble. I can tell that the little fella has dropped down some in the last two weeks and I am starting to feel kind of crampy. Like it's that time of the month or something. I am also having some lower back pain. My braxton hicks contractions are getting stronger and more uncomfortable. So there we are at the doctors for her to tell me what we've all been waiting for. Anything happening down there?
She checked me and said that I was a centimeter dialated. Really? Yes! Something is happening. She said that my cervix was softening and thinning but I could still have a ways to go. My doctor always says "I don't think it will be tomorrow, it still looks like you're right on track for your due date, but you never know!" with a big smile. "I'll be around this weekend so I'm ready whenever you are." She's such a great lady. I feel so lucky to have a doctor like her..
This appointment was a huge relief. I had been having some worries about the possibility of having to be induced. I know that is strange, since I've never been told that I would have to, we'd barely even talked about it. I just know that I feel pretty fine still and my due date is a week away, will they just want to cut me open a minute after midnight on the 17th if nothing is happening yet? Scary thought.
I know, as I've mentioned before, I do not want to have to take any drugs during labor. I especially do not want Pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic form of Oxytocin, a hormone the body naturally produces that plays a large part in labor and birth. It's the hormone that gets contractions going and it naturally acts as a pain reliever and provides that uphoric feeling after birth that helps the mother bond with the baby. As I understand it, Pitocin brings on contractions that are stronger than what you would have on your own. They have to keep increasing the dose until the contractions have a 'normal' pattern. It is said that Pitocin contractions are more painful and the epidural rate is much higher in mothers who have been given Pitocin, as is the C Section rate. All that leaves me wondering, how does this feel to the fetus? Stronger contractions coming on suddenly before everything else is ripe and ready on it's own. Sounds uncomfortable.
So I asked my doctor directly. If I do not go into labor on my own by my due date, what is our back up plan? I am worried about induction and, as you know I do not want medication. That definitely includes Pitocin. My doc's answer was great. She told me that I probably wouldn't have to worry because things were progressing wonderfully. If I haven't gone into labor by my due date, no big deal. We would set another appointment for a week out and see what happens. She said she usually will set an appointment to induce labor right around 42 weeks. She also said that some women didn't mind waiting still but most want this all to be over with by then.
There are many ways to induce labor. I am glad she mentioned this because I was reading about that too. First, it is a long and uncomfortable process to be induced before you are ready. She explained there are signs to look for to make sure that we can move forward and that includes effacement, dilation and softening of the cervix. If that is not ripe, Pitocin will be an uphill battle and may result in a long uncomfortable labor and even C Section.
Other options for inducing include Cervidil, which is a medication that helps thin (efface) the cervix. There is also a balloon like thing they can insert in the cervix that they slowly fill with water that will force you to dilate and should start contractions. The last option works if there are no contractions but the cervix is ready and that is to manually break the water. The last two options sounded pretty good to me. Uncomfortable but good. No drugs.
She also talked about stripping or sweeping the membranes. That is when the doctor manually separates the membrane (water bag) from the cervix. This usually stimulates the release of prostaglandins (the natural form of Cervidil) and helps thin the cervix. Then, after this conversation during the physical exam, she did just that. I only felt pressure. It was fine.
After we left the docs office, I had more contractions but they weren't regular and they weren't very painful. Now almost 48 hours later I'm feeling pretty normal. The fake contractions are getting stronger, I feel like I have cramps. All of this is normal. Things are working downstairs. There I go again. I just have to have faith that my body will do what it should. The rest is up to me to stay calm and patient.
So, blood pressure was good, baby's heartbeat was good and no other bad symptoms or warning signs of trouble. I can tell that the little fella has dropped down some in the last two weeks and I am starting to feel kind of crampy. Like it's that time of the month or something. I am also having some lower back pain. My braxton hicks contractions are getting stronger and more uncomfortable. So there we are at the doctors for her to tell me what we've all been waiting for. Anything happening down there?
She checked me and said that I was a centimeter dialated. Really? Yes! Something is happening. She said that my cervix was softening and thinning but I could still have a ways to go. My doctor always says "I don't think it will be tomorrow, it still looks like you're right on track for your due date, but you never know!" with a big smile. "I'll be around this weekend so I'm ready whenever you are." She's such a great lady. I feel so lucky to have a doctor like her..
This appointment was a huge relief. I had been having some worries about the possibility of having to be induced. I know that is strange, since I've never been told that I would have to, we'd barely even talked about it. I just know that I feel pretty fine still and my due date is a week away, will they just want to cut me open a minute after midnight on the 17th if nothing is happening yet? Scary thought.
I know, as I've mentioned before, I do not want to have to take any drugs during labor. I especially do not want Pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic form of Oxytocin, a hormone the body naturally produces that plays a large part in labor and birth. It's the hormone that gets contractions going and it naturally acts as a pain reliever and provides that uphoric feeling after birth that helps the mother bond with the baby. As I understand it, Pitocin brings on contractions that are stronger than what you would have on your own. They have to keep increasing the dose until the contractions have a 'normal' pattern. It is said that Pitocin contractions are more painful and the epidural rate is much higher in mothers who have been given Pitocin, as is the C Section rate. All that leaves me wondering, how does this feel to the fetus? Stronger contractions coming on suddenly before everything else is ripe and ready on it's own. Sounds uncomfortable.
So I asked my doctor directly. If I do not go into labor on my own by my due date, what is our back up plan? I am worried about induction and, as you know I do not want medication. That definitely includes Pitocin. My doc's answer was great. She told me that I probably wouldn't have to worry because things were progressing wonderfully. If I haven't gone into labor by my due date, no big deal. We would set another appointment for a week out and see what happens. She said she usually will set an appointment to induce labor right around 42 weeks. She also said that some women didn't mind waiting still but most want this all to be over with by then.
There are many ways to induce labor. I am glad she mentioned this because I was reading about that too. First, it is a long and uncomfortable process to be induced before you are ready. She explained there are signs to look for to make sure that we can move forward and that includes effacement, dilation and softening of the cervix. If that is not ripe, Pitocin will be an uphill battle and may result in a long uncomfortable labor and even C Section.
Other options for inducing include Cervidil, which is a medication that helps thin (efface) the cervix. There is also a balloon like thing they can insert in the cervix that they slowly fill with water that will force you to dilate and should start contractions. The last option works if there are no contractions but the cervix is ready and that is to manually break the water. The last two options sounded pretty good to me. Uncomfortable but good. No drugs.
She also talked about stripping or sweeping the membranes. That is when the doctor manually separates the membrane (water bag) from the cervix. This usually stimulates the release of prostaglandins (the natural form of Cervidil) and helps thin the cervix. Then, after this conversation during the physical exam, she did just that. I only felt pressure. It was fine.
After we left the docs office, I had more contractions but they weren't regular and they weren't very painful. Now almost 48 hours later I'm feeling pretty normal. The fake contractions are getting stronger, I feel like I have cramps. All of this is normal. Things are working downstairs. There I go again. I just have to have faith that my body will do what it should. The rest is up to me to stay calm and patient.
Friday, October 11, 2013
39 Weeks & 1 Day / Body After Baby?
Whoa, less than one week to go until my due date. That is unbelievable. The closer I get, the more I think that date doesn't really mean as much as I thought it did. I am pretty darn sure the due date is as close as it can get to correct. My monthly cycle was like clockwork and I found out I was pregnant right away so I know the first day of my last period. This is not some guess from an ultrasound tech, although they did confirm they believed I would be due on 10/19, just 2 days later. Even still, this is just a guess. You are considered full term anywhere from 37-42 weeks. This can really happen any day now, or maybe not for another three weeks!
Did anyone ever stop and think about this and use their math skills? People say you are pregnant for nine months. They calculate you're due date 40 weeks out. There are 4 weeks in a month. 40 divided by 4 is 10. That means 40 weeks equals 10 months. Pregnant for TEN months. How is that?
Well I understand now, although it seems confusing. Week 1 is the week you had your last period. Week 2 is waiting for your egg to drop down from your ovarie. Somewhere in the end of week 2 or the beginning of week 3 is when your egg was fertilized and somewhere in week 4 that fertilized egg implanted itself into the uterus. A few days after implantation you will be able to get a positive home pregnancy test because of the hormones coursing through your body. All that 'work' in month one and you weren't carrying yet, still they count those weeks as 1 through 4.
Okay. So then you are tired and most likely nauseous. If you are like me you are extremely tired and a little nauseous. The next 12 weeks after implantation where exhausting. Hey, what can I say, I was building a new organ for gods sake. A placenta. This valuable piece of meat will convert my blood into usable food, blood and oxygen that my fetus needs to survive. Not to mention that during that time my body actually made more blood. That's right, I doubled the volume of blood I had in my body. That's pretty amazing too.
Then I have a placenta and a nice warm watery womb for a baby to grow up in. Things got a little easier after that. The placenta starting doing some of the heavy lifting. I wasn't so tired, the fog lifted. Looking at a ham steak or a raw piece of chicken didn't make me cry anymore and bedtime was no longer by 7pm. Maybe I'd survive the rest of this journey after all.
I have to say the rest of this pregnancy has been pretty easy compared to that first part. Other than the heartburn and sleepless nights. All of it is tolerable though. But wow, how my body has changed. I have a human living inside of me. A full term baby right now. My stomach is stretched beyond any imaginable limit, the number on the scale is at an all time high (although, not much more than my previous heaviest weight) and my hips feel like my legs may fall out of my pelvic sockets at any moment, leaving me dragging my torso across the floor with my arms. It's almost like walking on stilts.
So how will I recover from this? I'm sure every woman wonders this when she is pregnant. What will my body be like after this is all over? My body was not perfect, but it was familiar, it was mine. Now I can excuse any of it's strangeness because I am temporarily sharing it with another tenant, but what next?
I worry a little, because I've always been pretty hard on myself. This last nine months have very much been an exception to that rule. I've really learned to love my body as I learned about all the amazing achievements it was making on its own. I've just been along for the ride. Sure I've taken good care of this body, with food and some exercise, enough water and sleep. Really it did most of the work on it's own. Now what? Do I trust it still to make the proper changes. That my skin will be elastic enough to mostly shrink back. That my body will adjust and lose the weight I gained. Should I trust that this body can make enough food to sustain this new life it just expelled? I guess I should.
This body has given me no reason to doubt it in the last nine months. Come to think of it, it has given me no reason to doubt it in my entire life. I think I was just confused and distrusting before. I did not truly understand what health was and I was surely not helped by the governments BMI charts and their insistence of an obesity epidemic, the media's view of what a woman should look like or society's idea of what it must mean if you are overweight (lazy, boring, unintelligent). I think it's time I shred those preconceptions and junk science and try things differently this time.
I will not go on a diet. I will not restrict one certain kind of food. It will not be time for a juice fast, a raw vegan lifestyle or a meat and cheese forget the carbs binge. I will not buy the newest diet book, The Zone, South Beach, Paleo Diet, Atkins, Forks Over Knives, Engine 2, or Eat To Live. I will not shop the health food isle and buy overpriced processed products made from chemicals assembled to simulate food and nutrients. I will not join WeightWatchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrasystem or any gym or health club.
Well what will I do then? For those of you who know me, you may know I've tried most of those things. I've lost the same 50lbs about 4 times. I have read all of those diet books. I have religiously gone to WeightWatchers meetings once a week for a year at a time. I started to diet at about 12 years old. I was active, healthy, involved in sports, played outside and loved life. Why did I think my body was failing? It was not. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I wouldn't have started to diet then, would I have ever gained as much weight as I did? Dieting doesn't work. You might lose weight, but it is always temporary and usually its returned with a few more pounds then you had to begin with. Sometimes a diet can make you sick, make you weak and tired and really hurt you.
Does this mean I will sustain myself on frozen burritos and hamburger helper? Absolutely not. I like real food. It is what tastes good to me. I want a salad, or a half of an acorn squash. I want that chicken breast with rice and veggies. Not dieting doesn't have to mean shoving processed food into your face in front of a TV twelve hours a day. Actually, I think that is a form of dieting. That is not a natural way to eat either. It is not natural to override your body's signals telling you that you are full.
I will try instead to move forward and listen to my body. If I am hungry, I will eat. If I am thirsty, I will drink. When I am satisfied I will stop eating and when I am tired I will sleep. I will eat a wide variety of foods, always including my favorite veggies and fruits. I will walk places and enjoy the outside with my new baby and my dogs. Most of all, I want to continue being happy. I will not feel guilt if I eat some chips, ice cream or some meat. I am living. This is what it is to be human. What my body does with this is genetics. It is natural. I will not be Kate Moss or Laura Flynn Boyle, nor did I ever want to be. I will be healthy and happy and that is how I will be a good mom, a good wife, a good daughter, a good employee, a good friend and a good person.
Did anyone ever stop and think about this and use their math skills? People say you are pregnant for nine months. They calculate you're due date 40 weeks out. There are 4 weeks in a month. 40 divided by 4 is 10. That means 40 weeks equals 10 months. Pregnant for TEN months. How is that?
Well I understand now, although it seems confusing. Week 1 is the week you had your last period. Week 2 is waiting for your egg to drop down from your ovarie. Somewhere in the end of week 2 or the beginning of week 3 is when your egg was fertilized and somewhere in week 4 that fertilized egg implanted itself into the uterus. A few days after implantation you will be able to get a positive home pregnancy test because of the hormones coursing through your body. All that 'work' in month one and you weren't carrying yet, still they count those weeks as 1 through 4.
Okay. So then you are tired and most likely nauseous. If you are like me you are extremely tired and a little nauseous. The next 12 weeks after implantation where exhausting. Hey, what can I say, I was building a new organ for gods sake. A placenta. This valuable piece of meat will convert my blood into usable food, blood and oxygen that my fetus needs to survive. Not to mention that during that time my body actually made more blood. That's right, I doubled the volume of blood I had in my body. That's pretty amazing too.
Then I have a placenta and a nice warm watery womb for a baby to grow up in. Things got a little easier after that. The placenta starting doing some of the heavy lifting. I wasn't so tired, the fog lifted. Looking at a ham steak or a raw piece of chicken didn't make me cry anymore and bedtime was no longer by 7pm. Maybe I'd survive the rest of this journey after all.
I have to say the rest of this pregnancy has been pretty easy compared to that first part. Other than the heartburn and sleepless nights. All of it is tolerable though. But wow, how my body has changed. I have a human living inside of me. A full term baby right now. My stomach is stretched beyond any imaginable limit, the number on the scale is at an all time high (although, not much more than my previous heaviest weight) and my hips feel like my legs may fall out of my pelvic sockets at any moment, leaving me dragging my torso across the floor with my arms. It's almost like walking on stilts.
So how will I recover from this? I'm sure every woman wonders this when she is pregnant. What will my body be like after this is all over? My body was not perfect, but it was familiar, it was mine. Now I can excuse any of it's strangeness because I am temporarily sharing it with another tenant, but what next?
I worry a little, because I've always been pretty hard on myself. This last nine months have very much been an exception to that rule. I've really learned to love my body as I learned about all the amazing achievements it was making on its own. I've just been along for the ride. Sure I've taken good care of this body, with food and some exercise, enough water and sleep. Really it did most of the work on it's own. Now what? Do I trust it still to make the proper changes. That my skin will be elastic enough to mostly shrink back. That my body will adjust and lose the weight I gained. Should I trust that this body can make enough food to sustain this new life it just expelled? I guess I should.
This body has given me no reason to doubt it in the last nine months. Come to think of it, it has given me no reason to doubt it in my entire life. I think I was just confused and distrusting before. I did not truly understand what health was and I was surely not helped by the governments BMI charts and their insistence of an obesity epidemic, the media's view of what a woman should look like or society's idea of what it must mean if you are overweight (lazy, boring, unintelligent). I think it's time I shred those preconceptions and junk science and try things differently this time.
I will not go on a diet. I will not restrict one certain kind of food. It will not be time for a juice fast, a raw vegan lifestyle or a meat and cheese forget the carbs binge. I will not buy the newest diet book, The Zone, South Beach, Paleo Diet, Atkins, Forks Over Knives, Engine 2, or Eat To Live. I will not shop the health food isle and buy overpriced processed products made from chemicals assembled to simulate food and nutrients. I will not join WeightWatchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrasystem or any gym or health club.
Well what will I do then? For those of you who know me, you may know I've tried most of those things. I've lost the same 50lbs about 4 times. I have read all of those diet books. I have religiously gone to WeightWatchers meetings once a week for a year at a time. I started to diet at about 12 years old. I was active, healthy, involved in sports, played outside and loved life. Why did I think my body was failing? It was not. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I wouldn't have started to diet then, would I have ever gained as much weight as I did? Dieting doesn't work. You might lose weight, but it is always temporary and usually its returned with a few more pounds then you had to begin with. Sometimes a diet can make you sick, make you weak and tired and really hurt you.
Does this mean I will sustain myself on frozen burritos and hamburger helper? Absolutely not. I like real food. It is what tastes good to me. I want a salad, or a half of an acorn squash. I want that chicken breast with rice and veggies. Not dieting doesn't have to mean shoving processed food into your face in front of a TV twelve hours a day. Actually, I think that is a form of dieting. That is not a natural way to eat either. It is not natural to override your body's signals telling you that you are full.
I will try instead to move forward and listen to my body. If I am hungry, I will eat. If I am thirsty, I will drink. When I am satisfied I will stop eating and when I am tired I will sleep. I will eat a wide variety of foods, always including my favorite veggies and fruits. I will walk places and enjoy the outside with my new baby and my dogs. Most of all, I want to continue being happy. I will not feel guilt if I eat some chips, ice cream or some meat. I am living. This is what it is to be human. What my body does with this is genetics. It is natural. I will not be Kate Moss or Laura Flynn Boyle, nor did I ever want to be. I will be healthy and happy and that is how I will be a good mom, a good wife, a good daughter, a good employee, a good friend and a good person.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Goodbye for Now, Little Body Shop/ Sick Day
Today (Tuesday 10/8) was my last day of work for a while. It feels really strange and surreal. Last Friday 10/4 was supposed to be my last day, but with a coworker on vacation I said I'd make it in until he was back To work Wednesday morning. So, I went in Monday. I did some paperwork, caught up my coworkers on some stuff and left for the day before noon. I'm trying to ease into this. Today I woke up early, at 4:30am when my husbands alarm went off. He was gone by 5am but I did not fall back to sleep.
I stayed in bed listening to Earwolf's Comedy Bang Bang podcast and laughing. Not a bad way to wake up at all. Cozy, hysterical and add my loving dog Snorp to this picture snuggling up next to me and it's pure bliss. Something felt off though. When I got up, I just felt off. No, could this be? Is it finally happening?
I have caught the cold that was going around! Noooo!
Everyone has been sick at work, no one stays home. I've been diligent about washing my hands and not putting any of the ball point pens in my mouth. But to no avail. I am sick. What a bummer. This is not something I want, or thought I'd have to deal with right now. This was not a part of my birth plan. HA!
I went to work anyway, thinking maybe this cold thing was just a false alarm. Sometimes in the morning I may feel stuffy, but once I get moving around I'm good. I got to work and was sneezing and sniffing and no, this is a cold. It's official. I caught up the paperwork and told my boss I would need to take a sick day to get over this cold so I can go have a baby. That, of course, was just fine.
I went back to our break room for our 10am body shop meeting. All the guys were back there and I said a formal farewell and see you soon. They all got a few more questions in and a few more tips on birth. I love hearing 2cents on labor and delivery from 50 year old men. They remember what it was like when their kids were born 20 plus years ago and what their wives went through. Never mind that things may have changed or that each experience is different. I love it. 'Go for a C Section, you'll be done in an hour.' or 'Make sure you get that back shot thing before it's too late.' or 'No, you're gonna want the drugs.'
I like to tell them I'll get my drugs in a doggy bag and save them for a Saturday night. They liked that. I also told them it was okay if they were threatened by my toughness. I told them they could stop by the hospital when I was in labor and we could arm wrestle and chew tobacco.
Lots of things I've read talk about how mad women get when people tell them what they are planning is wrong. If they want an epi someone is telling them to do a natural home birth. If they want to drugs someone is telling them they won't survive without a spinal block. If they have a scheduled C Section someone is telling them that you can have infection and it will be bad for the baby. This is life. It's annoying and constant. Get over it. You can't control what opinions are thrown at you. Don't let it upset you, you do have control over that. If you're not sure about something, do some non biased research and come up with your own opinion. Sometimes your opinion may change, be flexible. Don't let people upset you just because they think differently than you do.
The other day, I was on the phone with a very familiar repeat customer. She is known for being overly chatty. There she was, chatting away and she got out of me that I was taking time off to have a baby. She told me 'Oh, make sure you have them give you the epidural before it's too late.' I told her I was trying to go without medication. 'Oh, no. If you have back labor like I did you WOULD DIE. You can't do that. You'll NEED an epidural. Make sure you get one. Tell them that I told you you'd need one before it is too late.'
'Well, we'll see' Is all I said, thankfully I was on the phone so I could roll my eyes too. It feels good. I don't have to get upset or let this ruin my day, scare me or change my plans but shit yes, I will roll my eyes. It's funny, I've thought a lot about this topic and this person is just assuming I know nothing about anything and her experience over 30 years ago was more valid than any other documentation on the subject. Oh, people. Sheesh.
That is okay, people can have their opinions no matter how stupid or invalid they might be. I can chose to agree or disagree. I can choose to get upset and angry or I can choose to laugh. Usually, I choose to laugh. Laugh at myself and others. It's all funny. We can read and plan and remember past experiences all we want but we can't control the future.
I stayed in bed listening to Earwolf's Comedy Bang Bang podcast and laughing. Not a bad way to wake up at all. Cozy, hysterical and add my loving dog Snorp to this picture snuggling up next to me and it's pure bliss. Something felt off though. When I got up, I just felt off. No, could this be? Is it finally happening?
I have caught the cold that was going around! Noooo!
Everyone has been sick at work, no one stays home. I've been diligent about washing my hands and not putting any of the ball point pens in my mouth. But to no avail. I am sick. What a bummer. This is not something I want, or thought I'd have to deal with right now. This was not a part of my birth plan. HA!
I went to work anyway, thinking maybe this cold thing was just a false alarm. Sometimes in the morning I may feel stuffy, but once I get moving around I'm good. I got to work and was sneezing and sniffing and no, this is a cold. It's official. I caught up the paperwork and told my boss I would need to take a sick day to get over this cold so I can go have a baby. That, of course, was just fine.
I went back to our break room for our 10am body shop meeting. All the guys were back there and I said a formal farewell and see you soon. They all got a few more questions in and a few more tips on birth. I love hearing 2cents on labor and delivery from 50 year old men. They remember what it was like when their kids were born 20 plus years ago and what their wives went through. Never mind that things may have changed or that each experience is different. I love it. 'Go for a C Section, you'll be done in an hour.' or 'Make sure you get that back shot thing before it's too late.' or 'No, you're gonna want the drugs.'
I like to tell them I'll get my drugs in a doggy bag and save them for a Saturday night. They liked that. I also told them it was okay if they were threatened by my toughness. I told them they could stop by the hospital when I was in labor and we could arm wrestle and chew tobacco.
Lots of things I've read talk about how mad women get when people tell them what they are planning is wrong. If they want an epi someone is telling them to do a natural home birth. If they want to drugs someone is telling them they won't survive without a spinal block. If they have a scheduled C Section someone is telling them that you can have infection and it will be bad for the baby. This is life. It's annoying and constant. Get over it. You can't control what opinions are thrown at you. Don't let it upset you, you do have control over that. If you're not sure about something, do some non biased research and come up with your own opinion. Sometimes your opinion may change, be flexible. Don't let people upset you just because they think differently than you do.
The other day, I was on the phone with a very familiar repeat customer. She is known for being overly chatty. There she was, chatting away and she got out of me that I was taking time off to have a baby. She told me 'Oh, make sure you have them give you the epidural before it's too late.' I told her I was trying to go without medication. 'Oh, no. If you have back labor like I did you WOULD DIE. You can't do that. You'll NEED an epidural. Make sure you get one. Tell them that I told you you'd need one before it is too late.'
'Well, we'll see' Is all I said, thankfully I was on the phone so I could roll my eyes too. It feels good. I don't have to get upset or let this ruin my day, scare me or change my plans but shit yes, I will roll my eyes. It's funny, I've thought a lot about this topic and this person is just assuming I know nothing about anything and her experience over 30 years ago was more valid than any other documentation on the subject. Oh, people. Sheesh.
That is okay, people can have their opinions no matter how stupid or invalid they might be. I can chose to agree or disagree. I can choose to get upset and angry or I can choose to laugh. Usually, I choose to laugh. Laugh at myself and others. It's all funny. We can read and plan and remember past experiences all we want but we can't control the future.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
38 Weeks and 3 days, Preparing for Labor
So here we are, another week has gone by. Things are going by fast since I'm still working. Yesterday, Friday, should have been my last day. One of my coworkers is on vacation and I think I will go in on Monday and Tuesday also to help out since we're short staffed and the lady I trained to replace me is still learning. That is, I will go in on Monday and Tuesday if I am not in labor.
I guess I need to start saying that. 'If I am not in labor'. I think I'll go to the grocery store in the morning, if I am not in labor. Ooh, I want to cook that barley and butternut squash recipe I read about, if I am not in labor. I think tonight will be a great night to sleep, if I am not in labor!
We went to the doc's again on Thursday, that was day 1 of 38 weeks. She told me that things are progressing the way they should be. The baby has moved down some since the last time she checked me two weeks before. He is still head down and butt out front and my cervix is softening but not quite dilated yet. So she doesn't predict an early delivery, but you never know!
My doctor is very honest and realistic. She knows that the body will do what it wants to and while there are many factors that she can count on as good predictors, there is no sure way to say when I will go into labor. We talked more about choosing to forgo the drugs during birth. My doctor spoke more straight forward than ever.
"The more natural you can go, the more likely you will have a shorter and successful vaginal birth. The epidural rate has risen over the years and so has the cesarean rate. There is something to that. Your labor might not hurt as bad with an epidural but you won't be able to move around and it will slow things down a lot. If you can do without that and keep moving you will have a much better chance that things will keep progressing well and move forward faster. If you need a break, take IV pain meds and try to sleep for a little bit. Remember, this cannot last forever. This is a marathon, your marathon, into motherhood."
How great it was to hear all that. There is the conclusion I have come to in all the reading I have done. I CAN do this without drugs. It is only temporary and it is only pain and discomfort. I WANT to do this without drugs. I don't care at all what you did for your labor. This isn't for anyone else to compare to. This is MY marathon into motherhood. MINE. I have control over myself, and if I do change my mind when I'm there, who gives a shit. That is my decision to make, I should not feel bad or like a failure. If I should have to have a C section, I did not fail at giving birth. If the end result is three living family members in the room instead of the two that walked in, then we have succeeded.
I feel lucky that my husband, partner, best friend is so supportive. I get a lot of "Well, if you don't want drugs I think that is pretty cool. If anyone could do this it is you, Lanni. and if you do change you're mind, we are at the hospital and all we have to do is ask."
He has also been randomly giving me compliments about how well I've been handling pregnancy. That makes me proud that he is noticing that I am not a wussy or a whiner. Usually, wussies and whiners get all the attention. The squeaky wheel gets the grease right?
I have had no shortage of uncomfortable pregnancy symptoms but I've chosen not to focus on them and make them worse. I am choosing not to make them bigger than they are. Paul has noticed. He noticed that it must be tough to carry this extra and awkward weight, it must not be much fun dealing with around the clock heartburn and shortness of breath. He knows it probably would suck to have to get up five times a night to pee. While I talk about those things sometimes, it's mostly to joke about and not to cry about. I am glad someone has noticed. No this isn't easy, but it is most defiantly tolerable.
Only time will tell how this will go. I burned my birth plan and instead will bring my confidence, flexibility and resilience. I will not have tight restrictions on what others can or cannot do. I will not try to tell the weather I am demanding 55 degrees and sunny. I will go into this with the understanding that I will control the only thing I actually have control over: the way I react to any given situation. This is my marathon into motherhood.
I guess I need to start saying that. 'If I am not in labor'. I think I'll go to the grocery store in the morning, if I am not in labor. Ooh, I want to cook that barley and butternut squash recipe I read about, if I am not in labor. I think tonight will be a great night to sleep, if I am not in labor!
We went to the doc's again on Thursday, that was day 1 of 38 weeks. She told me that things are progressing the way they should be. The baby has moved down some since the last time she checked me two weeks before. He is still head down and butt out front and my cervix is softening but not quite dilated yet. So she doesn't predict an early delivery, but you never know!
My doctor is very honest and realistic. She knows that the body will do what it wants to and while there are many factors that she can count on as good predictors, there is no sure way to say when I will go into labor. We talked more about choosing to forgo the drugs during birth. My doctor spoke more straight forward than ever.
"The more natural you can go, the more likely you will have a shorter and successful vaginal birth. The epidural rate has risen over the years and so has the cesarean rate. There is something to that. Your labor might not hurt as bad with an epidural but you won't be able to move around and it will slow things down a lot. If you can do without that and keep moving you will have a much better chance that things will keep progressing well and move forward faster. If you need a break, take IV pain meds and try to sleep for a little bit. Remember, this cannot last forever. This is a marathon, your marathon, into motherhood."
How great it was to hear all that. There is the conclusion I have come to in all the reading I have done. I CAN do this without drugs. It is only temporary and it is only pain and discomfort. I WANT to do this without drugs. I don't care at all what you did for your labor. This isn't for anyone else to compare to. This is MY marathon into motherhood. MINE. I have control over myself, and if I do change my mind when I'm there, who gives a shit. That is my decision to make, I should not feel bad or like a failure. If I should have to have a C section, I did not fail at giving birth. If the end result is three living family members in the room instead of the two that walked in, then we have succeeded.
I feel lucky that my husband, partner, best friend is so supportive. I get a lot of "Well, if you don't want drugs I think that is pretty cool. If anyone could do this it is you, Lanni. and if you do change you're mind, we are at the hospital and all we have to do is ask."
He has also been randomly giving me compliments about how well I've been handling pregnancy. That makes me proud that he is noticing that I am not a wussy or a whiner. Usually, wussies and whiners get all the attention. The squeaky wheel gets the grease right?
I have had no shortage of uncomfortable pregnancy symptoms but I've chosen not to focus on them and make them worse. I am choosing not to make them bigger than they are. Paul has noticed. He noticed that it must be tough to carry this extra and awkward weight, it must not be much fun dealing with around the clock heartburn and shortness of breath. He knows it probably would suck to have to get up five times a night to pee. While I talk about those things sometimes, it's mostly to joke about and not to cry about. I am glad someone has noticed. No this isn't easy, but it is most defiantly tolerable.
Only time will tell how this will go. I burned my birth plan and instead will bring my confidence, flexibility and resilience. I will not have tight restrictions on what others can or cannot do. I will not try to tell the weather I am demanding 55 degrees and sunny. I will go into this with the understanding that I will control the only thing I actually have control over: the way I react to any given situation. This is my marathon into motherhood.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
37 Weeks Plus, Still Waiting/Birth Plan
37 weeks and 5 days. 17 days to go until our due date. Still Waiting.
Everything is going quite well. I am still working full time, I am still able to do most things. I am having a harder time bending over and lifting things. I suppose I shouldn't be doing that anyway, so yeah. I'm learning to ask for help, which to be honest, has been tough. Sleep hasn't been without interruptions. I've been used to the get up and pee every few hours thing, but now I'm waking up to the baby rolling around and having a harder time falling back to sleep. It's okay really, I'm not that groggy when I get going in the morning. I do, however get tired earlier in the day than I used to. No coffee to help me along either.
All of this is very normal and bearable. I also realize it's preparing me for being roused from my peaceful slumber to feed and care for a new born. I'm getting good at it. The waking up part, only time will tell for the rest.
The strange part is waiting. Waiting for something I'm pretty unsure about. I am pretty sure of the final outcome. I know I will have a baby. I just know how it will start, or progress. This is my first time and I don't really know what I'm waiting for exactly. How will this happen? Nobody knows. It's different for everyone. Still waiting...
I've read enough that I know what might happen, or should happen. But every piece of information that I read also says how it is different for everyone, with every pregnancy. 'Results Not Typical'. That is why my birth plan has gotten shorter and shorter and now seems insignificant. Everything you read now, and every new mom I've talked to asks 'What is your birth plan?' 'Do you have a birth plan ready yet?' And I'm like, what the hell is a birth plan? Yes, I plan to give birth!!!
Read this controversial and possibly offensive article written by a medical doctor on the subject of birth plans. Oh yes, the author is also a woman.
Birth Plans: Worse Than Useless
Well turns out it's a newer and now very important birth plan is pushed pretty hard if you are leaning toward the hopes of a natural birth. And what does that even really mean anyway. I am pretty set that I don't want any drugs. No pain medication that is. I don't want IV narcotics because I don't want my baby to have narcotics. I don't want an epidural for a much more selfish reason. I am much less afraid of the pain I will experience than I am of the idea of someone shoving a huge needle into my spine causing me to lose all feeling in my legs. It will also make me immobile. What if there is finally that zombie apocalypse that I've been planning for? I don't think I'll be able to run. What if there is a bear loose in the Child Birth Center? What then? In all seriousness, I just don't want that huge needle jammed in and I want to be able to move about the cabin. But, if there is an emergency and I need a C section, than so be it. I know I'll need to be numb for that!
So here is my birth plan:
I wish to deliver a baby from the inside of my body to the outside, hopefully by way of my vagina and without pain medication, but ultimately, by any means necessary. Thanks for your help!
Does that really need to be written down or can my husband and I just tell the nurse that when they offer me drugs? Believe me, I've gotten really good at turning drugs down in my lifetime, especially in the last nine months.
Everything is going quite well. I am still working full time, I am still able to do most things. I am having a harder time bending over and lifting things. I suppose I shouldn't be doing that anyway, so yeah. I'm learning to ask for help, which to be honest, has been tough. Sleep hasn't been without interruptions. I've been used to the get up and pee every few hours thing, but now I'm waking up to the baby rolling around and having a harder time falling back to sleep. It's okay really, I'm not that groggy when I get going in the morning. I do, however get tired earlier in the day than I used to. No coffee to help me along either.
All of this is very normal and bearable. I also realize it's preparing me for being roused from my peaceful slumber to feed and care for a new born. I'm getting good at it. The waking up part, only time will tell for the rest.
The strange part is waiting. Waiting for something I'm pretty unsure about. I am pretty sure of the final outcome. I know I will have a baby. I just know how it will start, or progress. This is my first time and I don't really know what I'm waiting for exactly. How will this happen? Nobody knows. It's different for everyone. Still waiting...
Read this controversial and possibly offensive article written by a medical doctor on the subject of birth plans. Oh yes, the author is also a woman.
Birth Plans: Worse Than Useless
Well turns out it's a newer and now very important birth plan is pushed pretty hard if you are leaning toward the hopes of a natural birth. And what does that even really mean anyway. I am pretty set that I don't want any drugs. No pain medication that is. I don't want IV narcotics because I don't want my baby to have narcotics. I don't want an epidural for a much more selfish reason. I am much less afraid of the pain I will experience than I am of the idea of someone shoving a huge needle into my spine causing me to lose all feeling in my legs. It will also make me immobile. What if there is finally that zombie apocalypse that I've been planning for? I don't think I'll be able to run. What if there is a bear loose in the Child Birth Center? What then? In all seriousness, I just don't want that huge needle jammed in and I want to be able to move about the cabin. But, if there is an emergency and I need a C section, than so be it. I know I'll need to be numb for that!
So here is my birth plan:
I wish to deliver a baby from the inside of my body to the outside, hopefully by way of my vagina and without pain medication, but ultimately, by any means necessary. Thanks for your help!
Does that really need to be written down or can my husband and I just tell the nurse that when they offer me drugs? Believe me, I've gotten really good at turning drugs down in my lifetime, especially in the last nine months.
Monday, September 16, 2013
35 weeks and 4 days: Nesting
Well, needless to say I haven't been writing as much. It's been a slow progression into laziness. Laziness is not the correct word. Madness? Madness is also not the correct word. If only there was a unique word to describe how I've been feeling and acting.I am still working. Full time. A little less than I am used to, about 43 hours a week. I still have weekends off, where I expect that I will sleep for a least 48 hours straight because I am so tired from the work week, but I never do. Weeknights I assume I will drive home from work with my eyelids propped open with toothpicks and roll out of my car into bed for the night. I do not.
Something happens when I get home, a second wind. Something miraculous. I start to clean; laundry, dishes, make dinner, washing baby clothes and blankets. Is this the 'nesting' I've read about? For some reason when I heard the word nesting, I always thought it meant sleeping a lot. Like just hanging out in your home (nest) and not doing anything. Now I realize it means getting this nest ready for your egg to hatch. It's an impulse that defies all logic. I am exhausted, I should rest. What the hell am I doing.
So yesterday, Saturday, I woke up at 4:30 am with my husband as he got ready to go to work. We talked for a while and I figured I'd just drift back off to sleep after he left. After all, falling back to sleep is a finely honed skill by now. All the trips to the bathroom every night has really given me a lot of practice. Paul did leave for work at about 5 or 5:30, I however, did not fall back to sleep. I went into the kitchen for some water. And so it began.
There were a couple glasses and a dish in the sink from the night before. I washed them. Without thinking, I then started to give the sink a good scrub down. I went into the fridge for a bottle of cold water, but not before rearranging everything, pulling out and tossing old food and wiping everything down. Finally I had my water in hand and I headed back to bed where my big blind dog was keeping a spot warm for me. Looking at Louie lying there I thought how much nicer this would be if my blankets and sheets were clean. I painstakingly got Louie to wake up and 'scoot over', 'off the bed' and stripped all the blankets, sheets and pillow cases and started a load of laundry. There I realized there were tiny muddy paw prints on the top of the washer and dryer from where a naughty cat had been. I got the cleaner and some paper towels and proceeded to wipe off every square inch of the washer and dryer, then the counter and cupboard and on and on until everything was sparkling in our utility room.
So now of course I cannot go to sleep on a bare mattress. The sun is up and the dogs are hungry. I fed the dogs and came back inside. Before I know it I'm cleaning off the dining room table, paying a few bills and filling out a preregistration form for the Child Birth Center at our local hospital. Folding laundry, vacuuming, dusting the ficken vacuum off! What next? I haven't even made my way down the hall into the nursery yet. Suddenly everything just stops. My energy drops. I've been up for 4 hours or so and I haven't eaten or drank any of that water that started all of this. I make a snack. The blankets are done so I make the bed. The warm comforter from the dryer feels and smells so good that I finally lay back down. I felt like I could sleep for another eight hours.
This nesting business is a strange phenomenon. I am cleaning and being productive without a list or a plan of any sort. Actually while I was doing it, my mind was pretty much blank. Later I went on the computer and update my Facebook status:
"I've been awake since 4:30am. I am cleaning. And cleaning things that clean things. Like dusting the vacuum, and wiping off the washer and dryer. Is this what 'nesting' feels like? Meth, it feels like meth."
Oh, boy I'm so funny. Ha! My brother commented that my mother was doing the very same thing at the same time. If this is nesting, then my mom has been nesting for 40 years or so. She has a especially intense bought of the nesting on weekends and it usually starts before sunrise.
Maybe this isn't nesting at all, maybe I am just finally becoming what I was always told I would some day. My mother.
That used to be a scary thought. I have changed my mind on the subject. I am not ACTUALLY turning into my mother. I am still 34 years younger and live a different life. This is not Freaky Friday or anything. It's a fact that as we get older, we may fall into some similar patterns as our parents. That is why I believe that we need to be conscious and honest about this. If your folks were horribly abusive shit bags, than maybe you should be aware that your predisposition is leaning toward the same.
Fortunately for me, my mothers quirks are pretty minor and she is all and all maybe the best woman I have ever known. Thanks mom for nesting all these years. You took great care of us.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Pregnancy Cravings
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| Super close up: Falafel Ball |
Well, so far I've put these stereotypes to shame. I've been pretty great to be around, if I do say so myself. I know, because I'm around myself 24/7 and if I'm grumpy, I hate it and I'm really hard on myself. I'm sure some women are beasts to be around when they're with child, but some women are horrible when they aren't pregnant too. The cravings thing I was thinking was a load of crap as well. I hadn't had any REAL cravings. I had food aversions the first three months. Ham steak made me cry while alone in my kitchen one time. "But it's so... slimy!" I thought pickles, mustard and anything vinegar based was the bees knees in my 4th month. I just never had that light bulb go off compelling me to eat only one specific thing. Like a food emergency. Like your baby inside of you has a switch blade and they're threatening your life unless you eat cauliflower dipped in carmel apple sauce. It hadn't happened.... until.
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| Sliced turnips in brine with a few sliced beets for color. |
There is was. It hit my like a ton of bricks. I want falafel. I don't want box crap, I don't want to go to a restaurant, I want falafel like I used to make at the Lebanese restaurant I worked at for a few years. And I want that falafel with lettuce, tomato, dill pickle, tahini sauce and turnip pickles. You can't just go to the regular old grocery store and buy turnip pickles. I would have to make them, and wait a week for them to ferment. Okay. This is a intense craving that will take days to fulfill. This cannot be remedied by waking my husband in the middle of the night and forcing him to drive to the AM PM. No, I will have to handle this myself.
Falafel is a long process, but once you've made the mix you can freeze it and it keeps for a long time. Then you can just thaw what you need to fry a batch and make sandwiches. I went to the store and bought dry beans: chick peas and fava beans. Fresh herbs, onions, garlic, pita, lemon juice, turnips, beets, pickling salt and vinegar. This would be everything I need to make my beloved falafel and proper condiments.
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| Falafel, mix, chop, fry and assemble. |
So two days later, I could wait no longer. I would eat my turnip pickles before they were done. That's okay. The really amazing part was that I did not lose that craving. It was a strong urge, a pull, a drive to have this meal. It became very important to me, and I'd be damned to let this be forgotten. I fried the falafel, chopped some lettuce, tomato and pickles and make the tahini sauce.
That was the best friggin' dinner I have ever had. It was so worth all the work and waiting. My husband is the luckiest mofo on earth. Instead of wandering into the darkness in search of dill pickle flavored chips and buffalo sauce, he is sitting down with me to enjoy a delicious homemade meal. I like to keep him happy. He keeps me happy too. That dinner was rich with delicious and many compliments.
Stay tuned for pregnancy craving #2...
Friday, August 16, 2013
Shower Cakes Idea
Having a baby shower? Like cake? Get creative!
Who needs just a boring old cake again.
So tomorrow is my baby shower. It's a strange feeling. I've never been the star of a party, let alone one that I had no hand in planning at all. My mother, my aunt and my cousin are planning and prepping entirely. My cousin Krista picked out and mailed the invites. She did a great job picking out an invite that I really liked.
What is a baby shower? and do I have to shower first? The questions are endless. I know there will be gifts, there will be food set up in an elegant and decorative manner. That is what my mother does best. I will take a lot of photos to show it off to the world.
What I'm sure I won't have at an event like this is a amazing theme cake like the one pictured above. How better to say 'This is a Baby Shower' than with a cake that looks like a vagina with a baby shooting out. I know that this will happen to me, although my pubic hair is not made of chocolate frosting. Unfortunately.
We plan to have another party in the beginning of September. A House Warming Baby Shower. or House Baby Warm Shower. Baby House Shower Warming. You get the idea. We just moved into a new house and we want to have some friends over. I want Paul to have a chance to celebrate the upcoming baby with friends and family too. Baby showers just for girls? Yeah, because it's traditionally boring. No guys would want to go anyway. Both. Let's do that, the traditional baby shower. Politeness, ladies, cleanliness and cute food. I will enjoy it. I will love being showered. This may very well be the last time that I am ever the center of attention. There will soon be the star of the show arriving. Enter, center stage, my vagina and baby.
Who needs just a boring old cake again.
So tomorrow is my baby shower. It's a strange feeling. I've never been the star of a party, let alone one that I had no hand in planning at all. My mother, my aunt and my cousin are planning and prepping entirely. My cousin Krista picked out and mailed the invites. She did a great job picking out an invite that I really liked.
What is a baby shower? and do I have to shower first? The questions are endless. I know there will be gifts, there will be food set up in an elegant and decorative manner. That is what my mother does best. I will take a lot of photos to show it off to the world.
What I'm sure I won't have at an event like this is a amazing theme cake like the one pictured above. How better to say 'This is a Baby Shower' than with a cake that looks like a vagina with a baby shooting out. I know that this will happen to me, although my pubic hair is not made of chocolate frosting. Unfortunately.
We plan to have another party in the beginning of September. A House Warming Baby Shower. or House Baby Warm Shower. Baby House Shower Warming. You get the idea. We just moved into a new house and we want to have some friends over. I want Paul to have a chance to celebrate the upcoming baby with friends and family too. Baby showers just for girls? Yeah, because it's traditionally boring. No guys would want to go anyway. Both. Let's do that, the traditional baby shower. Politeness, ladies, cleanliness and cute food. I will enjoy it. I will love being showered. This may very well be the last time that I am ever the center of attention. There will soon be the star of the show arriving. Enter, center stage, my vagina and baby.
Monday, August 5, 2013
29 Weeks and Moving
It's been a few weeks since I've posted anything. We moved, I'm working full time and we went on vacation. Life is so hard. Kidding! It's great! But I just can't find enough time to keep up with my writing. Oh, well. There are worse things I could be neglecting. I think I've got my priority's in line.Today is day four of my 29th week of pregnancy. I am into my third trimester and officially in my seventh month. Funny, I actually had to look at the Baby Center pregnancy app I have on my iPod to tell you how far along I was. In the beginning, I could have told you how many hours it had been since the egg was fertilized, now I have too look to remember if I'm 27, 28 or 29 weeks. By paying a little less close attention as far as this timeline goes, I am having a lot more fun and time isn't dragging by.
The fact is, this baby is going to be here before I know it. My husband was actually so confused that for a couple of days he thought I only had six weeks left, like I was due in September instead of October. I chalk that up to my fault because I'm not giving him those daily updates like I did in the beginning: "It's a tadpole, a blueberry, a apple, some other exotic fruit..." etc. When Paul told me, 'no Lanni, it's only 6 more weeks', my stomach dropped and I almost passed out. No. Friggen. Way. I need to pay better attention. Thanks again to my amazing Baby Center app that confirmed I still had 77 days until my due date. Holy moly!
My last doctors appointment went really well. My blood pressure is controlled, my weight gain has been great and my glucose test was passed with flying colors. This pregnancy is going just about as good as it ever could. I'm feeling spoiled almost. I'm still able to work full time, even overtime most weeks, and do fun things with my husband. Like Friday night, for instance, we went to a midnight movie with a bunch of friends. It was the one and only big screen showing of the made for Sci Fi Channel movie, Sharknado. Yes, it's about a tornado of sharks. It was amazing. I was out until three am and we had a blast. I just took a two hour nap before we left. I felt drunk from the weird sleep and didn't have to drive so that was a bonus too. If you don't know Sharknado and you love 'bad' movies, look it up.
Our move was also a great thing. Now I have a baby's room to work on! The toughest part about moving was trying to do what I always do. I am totally buff and strong and manly and can usually carry a full sized couch above my head with one arm, spinning. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but I'm no wussy. This was so different. I couldn't even carry a milk crate full of records. Something we take for granted is the ability to brace objects we're carrying against our abdomen. Now, I have to hold things way out front and that is way harder on your back and arms.
When we were at the doctors my husband asked our doc to tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing for the move. This was his way of helping me be okay with 'not doing enough'. It was easier to let go after the doctors orders. I just used our super strong reusable shopping bags instead of boxes so I could carry one in each hand with my back straight instead of carrying one big thing out in front. This worked well and I was still able to help.
Unpacking, decorating and setting things up has been different too. Usually I'd want a marathon of activity and push through until things were set up and then I could relax and enjoy. Now, I get tired much more easily and I've been taking a lot more breaks. Paul was a big help moving the things we don't use all the time to our garage for storage. Like Christmas decorations, old keepsakes and our butt loads of ultra violent horror movies on VHS. I guess those don't have to be on the movie shelf anymore. We'll save those for later.
More to come on our vacation...
Sunday, July 14, 2013
26 Weeks
Today (Thursday, July 11th) I am 26 weeks along. Today I woke up and suddenly, I feel HUGE. I feel like my abdominal wall is stretched to maximum capacity and I will just rip open if I get any bigger. I know this can't be true, because I still have 12 to 14 weeks of growing to do. What!?
Nothing is ideal. Sitting, standing, lying down. Nothing. But also, nothing is unbearable. Everything is okay, but long gone are the days of napping comfortably on by stomach, outside in the shade lying on a blanket. I don't think I could lie on the ground comfortably on my side anymore. So I guess I'm not 12 years old anymore. No more Nancy Drew novels digested while lying on my stomach on the floor of my room, knees bent, feet kicking back and forth above my body. Wait, that never happened. I've never read any Nancy Drew. More realistically would be me reading Christopher Pike or something. Die Cheerleader was one of my favorite books as an 11 year old girl. That may be more realistic. Still, none of that comfort. I'm no longer able to be carelessly unaware of my body. Here it is. I am here.
The other day my husband walked into the room with two more hot dogs on a plate and said to me, "It's one of those 'eat a whole package of hot dogs' kind of days. Do you love me anyway?"
I responded. "No, I love you because."
Fact is, I can only love a man who can drive a full pack of hot dogs in him. No more, no less. He is the perfect man for me.
Here is an example of what makes me a truly happy person. Sure, maybe we're not millionaires. Maybe we don't have fancy cars and clothes and gadgets. Maybe my dog is a blind mutt and our cats are secretly plotting to kill us, but we are happy. My blind mutt is happy, and our homicidal felines are pretty happy to. It is the small things that we must not over look. The small, wonderful things that we might miss if we hurray past. I love my husband, because he makes me laugh, because he is kind and thoughtful, and because he can put away a full pack of tube steaks.
So when I have a side ache because my core is being stretched to the max, or I can't seem to figure out how to flip over from lying on my left side to lying on my right, I think about all the little things and I smile. I laugh because I'm a giant turtle, stuck on their shell. I'm happy because I have another human forming inside of me. Someone who we are already familiar and we have not yet met. A little Paul and Lanni and a whole lot of individual. I can't wait to meet him. Any discomfort is temporary and well worth it.
I will remind myself daily to look for joyful things. To give myself moments to enjoy things and to accept the little gifts the universe throws at me. If my husband and I can teach our child anything, I hope it will be to be happy.
Nothing is ideal. Sitting, standing, lying down. Nothing. But also, nothing is unbearable. Everything is okay, but long gone are the days of napping comfortably on by stomach, outside in the shade lying on a blanket. I don't think I could lie on the ground comfortably on my side anymore. So I guess I'm not 12 years old anymore. No more Nancy Drew novels digested while lying on my stomach on the floor of my room, knees bent, feet kicking back and forth above my body. Wait, that never happened. I've never read any Nancy Drew. More realistically would be me reading Christopher Pike or something. Die Cheerleader was one of my favorite books as an 11 year old girl. That may be more realistic. Still, none of that comfort. I'm no longer able to be carelessly unaware of my body. Here it is. I am here.
The other day my husband walked into the room with two more hot dogs on a plate and said to me, "It's one of those 'eat a whole package of hot dogs' kind of days. Do you love me anyway?"
I responded. "No, I love you because."
Fact is, I can only love a man who can drive a full pack of hot dogs in him. No more, no less. He is the perfect man for me.
Here is an example of what makes me a truly happy person. Sure, maybe we're not millionaires. Maybe we don't have fancy cars and clothes and gadgets. Maybe my dog is a blind mutt and our cats are secretly plotting to kill us, but we are happy. My blind mutt is happy, and our homicidal felines are pretty happy to. It is the small things that we must not over look. The small, wonderful things that we might miss if we hurray past. I love my husband, because he makes me laugh, because he is kind and thoughtful, and because he can put away a full pack of tube steaks.
So when I have a side ache because my core is being stretched to the max, or I can't seem to figure out how to flip over from lying on my left side to lying on my right, I think about all the little things and I smile. I laugh because I'm a giant turtle, stuck on their shell. I'm happy because I have another human forming inside of me. Someone who we are already familiar and we have not yet met. A little Paul and Lanni and a whole lot of individual. I can't wait to meet him. Any discomfort is temporary and well worth it.
I will remind myself daily to look for joyful things. To give myself moments to enjoy things and to accept the little gifts the universe throws at me. If my husband and I can teach our child anything, I hope it will be to be happy.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Neato Parenting Fads
Please, read this article. It is informative and hilarious!
Click the link to open the article;
6 Progressive Parenting Fads You Won't Believe are Legal:
http://www.cracked.com/article_19344_6-progressive-parenting-fads-you-wont-believe-are-legal.html
One Great List, 6 Great Ideas. My thoughts:
#6 Suspended Baby Cages
You had me at Baby Cage. Need I say more? Best part, you're child learns the valuable skill of climbing out of open windows. Well done.
#5 Baby Yoga
This video should clearly show why I believe this to be a sick and twisted form of child torture. It has clips from the same video posted with the article above but this clip is from a news broadcast warning people that this is NOT a healthy baby exercise and to not try this at home. They also show this to a woman who is holding her newborn for the fist time. Nice of them, isn't it?
#4 Man Milk
My husband Paul and I have been talking a lot about this one. We believe this could be our best chance for me to get back to work quickly and skip the formula. Or not. Probably not.
#3 Deification Sans Diaper
Sounds cheap, clean, effective and simple. Forget the diaper and just clean up the shit. Clean up the constant, unpredictable stream of shit. Wait, maybe diapers are worth the price after all.
#2 Genderless Child
See my previous post Genderless Child.
#1 Lotus Birth
I have also dedicated an entire post to this subject before I found this article. Quite an amazing idea really. Natural is better. What is natural? Trendy Birthing Ideas, Vol. 1: Lotus Birth
Prenatal Life Coaching
Here is my very favorite prenatal parenting fad, Prenatal Life Coaches. You've heard of a Life Coach, someone who, well, I don't know. Someone who pretends they have some qualification to give you advice. A counselor with no degree. A psychologist with no accreditation. A psychotherapist with no ability to understand or prescribe medicine. Sounds safe and effective right? It also sounds like my mom is already my life coach, only I don't have to pay the lady. That makes it easier to decline any advice I don't believe fits well for me.
My Blind Dog Louie is the Best Life Coach.
Louie is a great listener, a good huger and an even better snuggler. Also, he doesn't charge and when he's bugging me I can just put him outside and shut the door (I could try this with my mom too?). He won't even hold a grudge at our next session. Louie never tries to force me into anything I don't feel comfortable with. I am confident he's listening to me because he always tilts his head from side to side, showing he's being an active listener.
www.lifewithblindlouie.blogspot.com
Who's your life coach? Any neat parenting ideas? Share them in the comments!
Click the link to open the article;
6 Progressive Parenting Fads You Won't Believe are Legal:
http://www.cracked.com/article_19344_6-progressive-parenting-fads-you-wont-believe-are-legal.html
One Great List, 6 Great Ideas. My thoughts:
#6 Suspended Baby Cages
You had me at Baby Cage. Need I say more? Best part, you're child learns the valuable skill of climbing out of open windows. Well done.
#5 Baby Yoga
#4 Man Milk
My husband Paul and I have been talking a lot about this one. We believe this could be our best chance for me to get back to work quickly and skip the formula. Or not. Probably not.
#3 Deification Sans Diaper
Sounds cheap, clean, effective and simple. Forget the diaper and just clean up the shit. Clean up the constant, unpredictable stream of shit. Wait, maybe diapers are worth the price after all.
#2 Genderless Child
See my previous post Genderless Child.
#1 Lotus Birth
I have also dedicated an entire post to this subject before I found this article. Quite an amazing idea really. Natural is better. What is natural? Trendy Birthing Ideas, Vol. 1: Lotus Birth
Prenatal Life Coaching
Here is my very favorite prenatal parenting fad, Prenatal Life Coaches. You've heard of a Life Coach, someone who, well, I don't know. Someone who pretends they have some qualification to give you advice. A counselor with no degree. A psychologist with no accreditation. A psychotherapist with no ability to understand or prescribe medicine. Sounds safe and effective right? It also sounds like my mom is already my life coach, only I don't have to pay the lady. That makes it easier to decline any advice I don't believe fits well for me.
Louie is a great listener, a good huger and an even better snuggler. Also, he doesn't charge and when he's bugging me I can just put him outside and shut the door (I could try this with my mom too?). He won't even hold a grudge at our next session. Louie never tries to force me into anything I don't feel comfortable with. I am confident he's listening to me because he always tilts his head from side to side, showing he's being an active listener.www.lifewithblindlouie.blogspot.com
Who's your life coach? Any neat parenting ideas? Share them in the comments!
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Movement: Make My Bububs Bounce
There's a party in my uterus and I'm not invited.
It's like having noisy downstairs neighbors. Up all night partying. Kicking the walls and ceiling. My mouth is connected to this party. If I have some sugar, watch out! My downstairs neighbor goes buck wild. Some kind of Tae Bo party. Does that date me, make me old? Anyone else remember the Tae Bo fad? Moving on.
Clearly, the most exciting part of pregnancy thus far is feeling my baby move. It is just, so. damn. NEAT! I'm at a loss for words really. It is all happening gradually but quickly. At first I felt a subtle swimming. Now it's kicks. Full on. No mistaking. Kicks and punches. Usually down really low. I'm even noticing a pattern in activity at certain times of the day.
So, what exactly is going on in there? It seems our little fella is stretching out. Practicing movements. Sucking and swallowing. Tasting and hearing now even. I can't believe it! It is a miracle. It is nothing short of miraculous that a human being is forming inside of my body. A real live baby is growing inside of my woman parts. My uterus is magic!
For the first time in my life I am completely on board with the idea of me being a woman. I've always hoped, wished and wondered otherwise. I was such a tomboy growing up, I was sure I was a boy from age 4 to 10. Now I know I'm not, and I would be missing out on this amazement if I was. I'm not saying that a man can't experience the wonder of becoming a father while his child is still in the womb. I'm just saying that he will never feel that baby growing inside of him, the same blood pumping through both of their veins. My fetus breathes what I breathe, eats what I eat, tastes what I taste. This connection that I will undoubtedly have with my child is already so strong. I understand more than ever what my mother was going through as she raised me. (Sorry mom. Please forgive me for being such a... teenager.)
Gotta make my bububs bounce.
Everyday I feel the kicking and I think that, this is it, it won't get any stronger. Then the next day there is a harder one and that slowly becomes the new norm. To think that sooner or later I could be actually seeing my baby move under my skin is amazing! It's something that would have scared me when I was younger. Something you see in a horror movie before the monster burst through the skin of the unaware victim leaving them lifeless and bleeding. Nope, that's just my baby boy in there, and I love him.
It's like having noisy downstairs neighbors. Up all night partying. Kicking the walls and ceiling. My mouth is connected to this party. If I have some sugar, watch out! My downstairs neighbor goes buck wild. Some kind of Tae Bo party. Does that date me, make me old? Anyone else remember the Tae Bo fad? Moving on.
Clearly, the most exciting part of pregnancy thus far is feeling my baby move. It is just, so. damn. NEAT! I'm at a loss for words really. It is all happening gradually but quickly. At first I felt a subtle swimming. Now it's kicks. Full on. No mistaking. Kicks and punches. Usually down really low. I'm even noticing a pattern in activity at certain times of the day.
For the first time in my life I am completely on board with the idea of me being a woman. I've always hoped, wished and wondered otherwise. I was such a tomboy growing up, I was sure I was a boy from age 4 to 10. Now I know I'm not, and I would be missing out on this amazement if I was. I'm not saying that a man can't experience the wonder of becoming a father while his child is still in the womb. I'm just saying that he will never feel that baby growing inside of him, the same blood pumping through both of their veins. My fetus breathes what I breathe, eats what I eat, tastes what I taste. This connection that I will undoubtedly have with my child is already so strong. I understand more than ever what my mother was going through as she raised me. (Sorry mom. Please forgive me for being such a... teenager.)
Gotta make my bububs bounce.
Everyday I feel the kicking and I think that, this is it, it won't get any stronger. Then the next day there is a harder one and that slowly becomes the new norm. To think that sooner or later I could be actually seeing my baby move under my skin is amazing! It's something that would have scared me when I was younger. Something you see in a horror movie before the monster burst through the skin of the unaware victim leaving them lifeless and bleeding. Nope, that's just my baby boy in there, and I love him.
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