Virtual nesting?

For those of you who have been here before, you'll notice things look a bit different. Apparently nesting has spilled out onto the internet.

It was time for a change.

I've got little else to report.

Pregnancy update: Am huge. Also being kicked internally ALL. THE. TIME. Less than 6 weeks to go.*

Nesting update: Bathroom is nearly complete. Back splash is painted. Baby clothes and diapers have been pulled out and coo'd at but still need washed.

*The Plan (version 1): If I go into labor naturally before the due date, and it progresses, I'll try for a VBAC. If not, we're going in after her on her due date (aka a c-section). I am not waiting nearly 3 extra weeks a second time. If you're interested, there is a TON of blog material on Mr. Man's refusal to enter the world, the birth plan that went completely off the rails, and how I ended up with a c-section after a zillion hours of labor.

**The Plan (version 2): The hospital and my OB might not be ready to do VBACs by the time this baby chooses to come...it's a long story and we'll leave it at that. So, we'll just hope she doesn't come early. I admit, this is not the best plan ever. I plan on planning more.

It's spring and I'm still nesting

So much has been done and so much still needs to do. Top of the to-do list is stop adding to the to-do list!!

On the bright side, my yard looks great* because I was out there pulling weeds and tiding up plant beds. I ran out of time and stamina and didn't get to planting the flower bulbs I had purchased and it turns out that I dodged a bullet on that one, since it has been a wintery mix ever since. The weather cycles between snow, rain, and hail, with the occasional burst of sunshine and a rainbow here or there. It's very much spring, but maybe not warm enough for flowers just yet.

*Great is a relative term reflecting my own standards of yard maintenance and not those of my neighbors.

And can I take a moment to bask in my own accomplishments? I have purchased flower bulbs. I feel like such an adult! Like, I can take care of plants well enough inside my house (most of them stay alive, so I'm counting that as a win) that I have expanded to include outdoor plant responsibilities.

I'm toying with what we'll be planting in our garden beds this year. Last year I had this fabulous scarlet runner tepee and we are definitely doing that again.

Glorious. glorious bean tepee!

Let's just hope that things warm up enough to plant before this baby arrives!

My new exercise routine is nesting

With my first pregnancy, we focused on getting everything we needed for the baby...okay, and a bunch of cutey stuff we probably  definitely did not need. This time around, we have all that stuff. Sure, there have been a few purchases (I obsessed over Etsy until I found the perfect baby quilt for tummy time), but really we don't have much we need.

You'd think that was a good thing, right?

Since all the baby stuff is pretty much taken care of, my husband, who gets into nesting almost as much as me, and I have turned our focus elsewhere. Basically, we are remodeling our house.

Alright, that's an exaggeration. We're only doing a makeover on the main bathroom. And painting our bedroom. R also created a new place for the cat litter and food downstairs that cannot be accessed by infants. And we started creating a series of cat shelves on a wall downstairs. I suddenly HAD to sew some curtains for my office - using burlap, the most difficult to work with fabric known to man. Oh, and we are in the midst of upcycling a used piece of furniture as a media console. Also we got all new kitchen appliances and a new car. So...yeah...maybe gone a bit crazy since we only have 10 weeks until this baby's arrival is eminent.

Good job taking it easy, selves. Wouldn't want to go and get yourselves overwhelmed or anything.

As a justification, many of these projects have been on the to-do list for a good long while or were hanging over our heads because "Have you heard that weird sound the fridge has been making?" We've also been saving up for a new car for quite some time because kids take up way more space than you can imagine. But still, entering into the third trimester apparently pushed us over the edge. Quick, for the love of all that is meaningful, we must do ALL the things! All the things must be done!! Right NOW!!!

You should see the length of the to-do list I have posted to the fridge. Legendary.

So here I am, swollen and hippo-sized, squatting down to apply painters' tape to the trim in my bedroom when I'm not waddling around home improvement stores looking at toilets and furniture hardware. Unfortunately, it has done nothing to reduce my bulk. I'm at that point in pregnancy where the baby is gaining a 1/2 a pound a week and I'm gaining something like 10.

Recently I saw a pic of me when I was overdue with my first and Ewww! No! I don't want that again. I don't want to be so big! HOW was I SO big!?!?*

*I went on like that for quite a while.

Now here's a pic of my 2 year old splashing in puddles to remind me why it's worth it:

Babies and toddlers and stuff

We all know I've been gone because pregnant. 'Nuff said.

Here's the recap:
I got to throw up through week 16. That's 3 1/2 months of erping.

THEN, during week 17, my pelvis began radiating fire. It turns out that as your joints loosen, they can do so asymmetrically. Basically, the right and left sides of my pelvis were playing twister with each other. Now, I'm not one to cry uncle very often, but WOW. That hurt. It tapered off some and I have found some stretches and exercises that help a little. But that was another 2 weeks on the couch.

Man, this had better be the cutest baby ever!

So, here I am, now 25 weeks pregnant. I'm trying to work myself slowly back into some semblance of physical fitness. Cat/Cow, kegal, kegal, kegal...all you pregnant ladies know what I'm talking about.

My tummy is filled with visible baby movement. My heartburn is actually minimal (thank you Gods of stomach acid and esophageal sphincters!). And I'm starting to think about how this swelling stomach actually contains a real person!

It's so much more real the second time. You have a better idea of what to expect. For instance, every time she starts kicking I think, "and this will be a time I'll be nursing." Soon I will put together a spreadsheet and start tracking her awake patterns to determine when/if I will get to sleep once she arrives.*

*What?! If you've read this blog at all, you know I'm riding the nerd train to the end of this pregnancy...or forever. Feels like the same thing.

Then there's the toddler. Our goofy, funny, super smart toddler who is perched on the edge of toilet training. He can stay dry all day if you remind him to sit on the potty. He used to even go there himself before, for no reason anyone can fathom, he decided not to. And I'm trying to hold it together and keep up with the praise and minimize the negative even though child, you will be potty trained long before the baby comes because there will be no regression!!!  Not that I'm worried or obsessed or anything.

Other things on the to-do-list before baby arrives:
1) finish first kid's baby book
2) sleep as much as humanly possible (HAHAHhahaha, just kidding. We already have one kid, so the days of sleeping are dead)
3) try to squeeze in some date nights (we already have a sitter so we can attend the presidential caucus, so that's pretty hot)
4) teach first kid to be completely self-sufficient in the next few months

Seems doable.

Life!

Again with the disappearing act. I know. Soon all my blog posts will be about why I'm not posting.

Thrilling.

But this time, I have a very good reason. You see, Internet, I have done got knocked up again.

That's right. I am growing a second baby. And this time, pregnancy is AWFUL. I have been super sick since Week 5. I'm in Week 12 right now and I am still nauseous and gaggy and Ewwww. The joys of creating life.

I'm taking DiGlegis, which does reduce the sickness some. Not enough but this medication is basically risk free for baby, so I'm sucking it up...spending a lot of quality time with my toilets. Eating SO much because, ironically, eating is the only thing that can stop the puking. Trying to force yourself to eat while nauseous is truly a test in willpower. It just seems so unfair that I'm already gaining weight while throwing up so much.

But whatevs because baby. And, thanks to the power of science, we already know that we are having a baby girl. One of each. Hit the genetic lottery.

If I don't sound more excited it's because of the gross and all the tired. Tired because pregnant. Because toddler. And, oh Irony my old friend, the side effect of the medication I am taking is fatigue. HA!

So, basically I'm sleeping, puking, and eating. I am sexy she-beast of the baby pooch and puffy eyes. Fear me because I am understandably short tempered and filled with food cravings. Also, I'm already outgrowing my clothes and I DO NOT want to wear those maternity clothes. I should have burned them, but then I would have to shop and spend money on clothes I don't like when I need to save for this second kid because holy hell, what were we thinking??

And that, Internet, is what's up.

A bit awkward

I am pretty sure my post Preggo Love, which is about my hubby loving my belly when I was pregnant, and is as innocent as a post can be when it ultimately centers around pregnancy (you know, since the underlying cause isn't very innocent), was found by someone searching for pregnancy porn.  Now I feel a little dirty. But only a little. Mostly I LOL'd about how disappointed someone was for the 2.5 sec they looked at my blog before getting back to their Google search.

Thanks Keyword Search Term info for lightening the mood.

That's all. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Things I didn't know about labor and post-pregnancy

Breaking your water, rupturing membranes, whatever you want to call it, it's gross. I was under the assumption that your water broke, there was a gush of fluid, and that was that. But it doesn't stop there. It keeps coming because your body keeps making it. It's basically like getting to pee your pants over and over again. Like I said, gross.

A lot of people will reach up your vagina. Progress needs to be checked. Even if you are trying to keep exams to a minimum, a lot more fingers will be inside you than you'd probably realized. I would recommend doing perineum massage for that reason alone.

Time is meaningless. During labor, after labor, time loses its normal rhythm. It stretches and contracts in odd ways. The time we spent in the hospital after the baby was born seems like days, maybe even a week, but was only 36 hours.

Stretch marks. I thought that the stretch marks you had when you were pregnant were the total sum of stretch marks. I even thought some of those might disappear or shrink when the pregnancy swelling reduced. WRONG. SO very very wrong. The stretch marks you can see while pregnant are just the tip of the iceberg, and the rest of the iceberg is submerged in bloat. As you get smaller after the baby is born, and the water recedes, those jagged red icebergs are exposed. The small cluster of stretch marks I had on my upper thighs while pregnant have been befriended by the ring of stretch marks I now have all across my upper thigh and inside thigh and they now rise to meet the patch of stretch marks on my hips that have grown darker since the baby's arrival.
I'm not that upset that I have stretch marks. I've come to terms with it quite a while ago. But I feel like I was lied to. Like my body threw me a nasty surprise party - SURPRISE! We got you more stretch marks!

Joint pain. I thought that would end with the pregnancy, but what I failed to realize was that my joints were way more loose and out of whack than I thought. And as the relaxin reduces throughout your body, your joints ache as they slowly get pulled back in place. More than two weeks out and my shoes don't fit yet (yep, not all of that was swelling) and I still can't wear my wedding ring.

Breastfeeding. Where do I begin? I think I'll do a whole post on my personal experience, which hasn't been horrible, but did present some surprising little gifts of its own. Anyway, some general things I didn't know beforehand about breastfeeding*:
1) it is messy! You drip, leak, and gush, and that's not even counting what the baby is doing. Get out of the shower and you may leak. Bend down and you might notice a puddle below you. Adjust your bra and BAM! wet spot. I took a nap and woke up in the middle of a small lake because I had soaked through not one but two breast pads, my bra, my shirt, my comforter, my blanket, and my sheets. Good times.
2) you need a specialized wardrobe. I knew that. Rather, I thought I knew that, but I totally underestimated, well, everything. I have the right bras in the right quantity, but my newly ballooned balloons don't even fit into most of my clothes. The clothes they do fit into usually restricts access, which is very important these days. So, baby = yet another wardrobe.
3) a complete loss of modesty. While in the hospital, approximately 20 people saw my swollen, stretch marked boobs. And I totally didn't care. At least 3 women I do not know touched my breast(s) to help me adjust my latch, and it was more like getting help moving furniture than a 'bad touch.' And when the photographer came to our home for the newborn photo session, I started nursing - and I'm not yet a pro so much boob was flashed - right in front of her without a second thought. Only afterwords did I think to ask R if I should have been more discreet (for the record, he said she was probably used to it).

*Note: I knew a lot about breastfeeding. I've done research for WIC on ways to increase breastfeeding in certain populations, I've attended lactation classes, I've watched many of my friends and relatives breastfeed, and this was stuff NObody thought to mention.

Taking the baby out. We started taking our baby out fairly early. It's June, the weather is nice, it isn't cold or flu season, and I don't let strangers touch him, so that's totally okay. Seriously, our pediatrician says so. But not everyone agrees. Some people are fascinated to see him, some think  its totally normal, and then there are people who give you death stares because he's too new to be outside. One lady even told me that she waited 6 weeks before leaving the house with her baby.

I'm sure there are other things I'm forgetting, but I need to go and see about that breastfeeding thing again.

Making a Baby: 42 Weeks and It's Time

Here's the really brief version of what's about to happen and why:

At 42 weeks (seriously, what the fuck?!), the risks to baby go up quite a bit. My doctors...well, all but that one we talked about last time...have given me the option to continue being pregnant and miserable, but I would have to get nonstress tests every couple days.

However, after much deliberation and weighing our options, we have decided to go the induction route. Here's why:
1) My cervix has been 50% effaced (thinned out) for 3 weeks. It hasn't budged since then, and that means dilation has ground to a halt at around 2 cm. In laymen's terms, nothing is happening.
2) We don't want to wait until there is an emergency. At that point, our options would be c-section or cesarean (FYI, those are the same things).
3) Let me be honest, I'm pretty sick of this whole pregnancy thing. I've had weeks of practice/false labor. On several of occasions, it was looking like this was it, only to have contractions subside.

SO, we are going in to the hospital tonight. Unfortunately, because I tested positive for Group Strep B (a common bacteria, about 40% of pregnant ladies have it), I can't go the Foley bulb option, which is a manual way to try and get pregnancy going by forcing your cervix to dilate. Instead, we'll be using Cervidil, which is the only FDA approved drug to ripen the cervix. Added bonus, it's removable, so you can circumvent nasty side effects like uterine hyper stimulation.

We'll take it from there. Hopefully, my body is ready to go and that kicks me into labor and I can do the rest naturally. If not, well, I feel like I did all I could to get to that point. Either way, the next time we come home we'll be bringing the baby with us - outside my womb and visible!

Wish us luck!

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Side story:
I went 41 3/4ths weeks without a stranger trying to touch my belly. Then it happened while I was waiting in line at Hastings:

Lady: Oh my god, look at you! (running at me from other line with hand held out)
Me: (assuming defensive position, hands over belly) ??
Lady: Can I touch it?
Me: Please no.
Lady: REALLY? (honestly confused, hand still out)
Me: I'd rather you didn't.
Lady: Oh. Well (insert banal questions about due date, sex, etc.)?

After we leave the store:
Me: Did that really just happen?
R: Afraid so.

The High Pressure Sell: Induction and Cesarians

On Thursday we went to the OB for a biophysical profile (this checks baby's movement, amount of amniotic fluid, and general health) and a routine visit. That's not what happened.

The good news: the baby is 100% healthy and awesome. The biophysical came back with the highest score possible. Yay!

The bad news: according to the ultrasound, I am carrying a nearly 9 lb baby. When you factor in the margin of error, he could be a little below 8 lbs. Either way, big baby. The accuracy of an ultrasound isn't great, but the smaller and slimmer the mother, the more likely it is to be right...balls!

On to the doctor's visit. Let me preface by saying that I am seen at a practice with three physicians and we choose to rotate through them because any one of them could be on call when the baby is born. That said, the doctor we were seeing on Thursday is my least favorite. His bedside manner is fantastic, but his scope of knowledge leaves me...unsettled. He's one of those go by his guts type of guys and his response to items on my birth plan (which is short and simple) weren't very reassuring. For instance, while the other two doctors both were fine with my request to avoid an episiotomy unless it looked like I was going to tear toward the front, this doctor went into how this was "an art" and he would basically make the decision to do an episiotomy or not to avoid "my bottom blowing out."

So, still reeling from being told I am having a mammoth-sized baby, the doctor comes in, looks over the biophysical report, "um, looks good, very healthy...8 lbs. 14 oz. So, what do you want to do?"

I request that he conduct the internal exam before we start discussing options (if I'm dilated to a 3, that's going to influence my decision). Instead, he launches straight into a soliloquy about potential complications related to the baby's size - permanent nerve damage to the shoulder, distress, death. That's right, he went there. Right away. So, what do I want to do?

Again, I say I'd like to have him conduct the internal exam. Obviously a bit annoyed, he gets the nurse, does a very quick exam and says I'm not dilated at all. R and I share a look. R asks, "So it can go backwards?" Because I was at 1.5 cm the week before. The physician basically blows this question off and starts talking about induction. He makes it clear that it would be a multi-day process and because I'm not dilated, he thinks it would end with a cesarian. Then he goes back to talking about babies dying!

When I try to ask him a question, he cuts me off and tells me how he'd do an induction. It involves the drug that we learned about in my birthing class. The one known to have the most risks of hyper-uterine stimulation. That means uber painful for me, most likely to stress the baby, and most likely to lead to a cesarian. R asks him if that drug is even FDA approved (we know it isn't), and he says "not that I know of." Then he rationalizes why he uses it anyway. Grrreeeaaat.

To sum up, when I said I really want to avoid a cesarian he tells me that "I wouldn't put money on it if I was a betting man." Repeatedly warns me that the baby is only getting bigger while I wait. Implies I should go straight to a cesarian to avoid distressing the baby. And then starts telling me of the advantages of a cesarian, totally glossing over the fact that this is major surgery with all the potential risks of any other major surgery, like hemorrhaging and infection.

Needless to say, I was feeling backed into a corner. Which starts to make me mad. I'm not avoidant when it comes to arguing the facts. I have extensive training in doing so, that's basically what graduate school is. But I don't want to piss off the guy who might be delivering my baby. So instead of attacking his talking points, I point out that the confidence interval (level of accuracy) on the ultrasounds when it comes to size estimates are really poor. This causes him to back pedal. He admits that their practice never recommends interventions due to the baby's size.

I'm left thinking then why are we having this whole conversation?? My baby is perfectly healthy. I'm not pushing to get him out early (though I'd love it if he'd come). And I was only 4 or 5 days overdue, depending on what due date you want to use. On average, babies come over a week after their due dates. The range for full term is 38-42 weeks. They use 40 weeks because it's in the middle. He knows this, so what's with all the pressure?

In the end, we agree that I schedule an OB appointment for Monday (tomorrow) and I think about it. And, I have thought about it. And the more I've thought about it, the more pissed off I am! F this guy! He's the doc on call this weekend, and as much as I want this baby out, I spent the whole weekend whispering to my bulging belly, begging our little guy to wait until Monday.

Unless there is a reason, based on the actual health and safety of my baby (P.S. size isn't a recognized concern by the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists because pelvises expand and babies squish), this baby is staying in there until he wants to come out. On his own.

Making a Baby: 40 weeks and counting

Really, I have nothing to say. Or rather, I have nothing NEW to say.

I am still pregnant. It is either 3 or 4 days past my due date, depending on which indicator you want to use, date of last menstruation or ultrasound. It doesn't really matter. Either way, I'm still pregnant. I have been pregnant for over 270 days. And really, I've had enough.

Unfortunately, that does not make me any less pregnant. Neither does walking, nipple stimulation, red raspberry leaf tea, pressing of pressure points, more walking, sex, bouncing on my exercise ball, jiggling my belly, or having every person I know annoy the hell out of me because "weren't you due last weekend?"

I have gone on an almost complete communication blackout. No Facebook. No phone. For my own sanity I should also not listen to my voice mails or read my text messages because they all boil down to the same BS, that I might have had the baby and not told anyone. Or some suggestions on ways to induce labor. Or just to remind me that I haven't had the baby yet, WTF? Why am I doing this to everyone?

In the meantime, I continually lose feeling in my right hand, my ankles - especially the one I broke in high school - look frighteningly similar to overtaxed water balloons, I keep having contractions (but not enough to go to the hospital), and the baby has taken to performing extensive cardio routines which involve thumping me in the cervix while kicking and kicking. I have tried to convince the baby to use this energy to get the hell out of my uterus, but apparently he isn't getting it. Also, the in utero movements have lost their cuteness entirely. No more, awww, look it the wee little foot. Now it's just GET OUT! WHY ARE YOU NOT GETTING OUT?!

In all honesty, the primary source of my frustration is that my father, due completely to R and I's smug certainty that I would have had the baby by now, is going to be here in 9 days. That seems like a long way away, except that we have stipulated a no visitors for 1 week rule. My dad is not in a position to easily change his schedule (thus the reason for scheduling his visit in the first place), and if he comes before the 1 week is over all hell is going to break out among the other relatives. Not to mention that we really want that week for me to recover, to establish breastfeeding, and to just be by ourselves before the tidal wave of visitors hits. I love my dad, but I don't want him here while I deal with the worst of the postpartum hormones and grossness.

That keeps hovering over our heads as we approach tomorrow's OB visit, where we will do a full biophysical profile (yay for coming with a full bladder so I can properly test my kegal strength throughout the testing!) and have the induce/not induce discussion.

Long, complainy-pants story summary: baby, PLEASE just come today or tonight!

Stop asking me about the baby!

No there is not a damn baby yet!!!

You see, that's what I'm saying to myself on the inside every f'ing time I answer the phone...which isn't often. Mostly I let it go to voice mail because the pregnancy rage, it's really real. For realz.

If I call and get someone else's voice mail, I make sure to leave a message saying that there is nothing going on. This has not reduced the number of people calling back to see if something is, in fact, "going on." Because, obviously, I might be a lying liar. 

At this rate, it is likely that I reduce the world's population before I add to it.

I recently had to restrain myself because the annoyed, vindictive part of me came THIS close to telling my dad I lost my mucus plug. But then I'd probably have to tell him what that was and I'd end up more uncomfortable than he would. And (here's the important part) it wouldn't bring me any closer to having this baby. 

Stubborn baby. Get out get out getout getout GETOUT!!!

I have been walking, having sex, R is exhausted, the size of my ankles is totally frightening, and still no baby. I have had random people yell across store aisles and restaurants about how I look like I'm ready to have this baby, and still no baby. I even had an old lady I had never seen before in my life tell me to go home...still no baby.

My neighbor has yelled over my fence asking about the frequency of my Braxton Hicks. My mom stupidly asked if I was dilating more, cause you know, even though I can't even see the outside of my nethers I obviously have been keeping a tactile-based journal on the state of my cervix*. My friend asked if I felt like I was going to have the baby that day. I could go on. There's been a lot of slap yourself type questions thrown my way. 

*No, she did not think I had been to the doctor. She just thought I could maybe tell. This from a woman who had three children and could never even tell when she was actually in labor.

SOooo....that's how week 39 is wrapping up. Basically, I'm finding that the very worst part of the end of pregnancy is other people. And yes, I know they are interested/concerned/supportive/etc. but also, they need to shut up. I have promised that I will not be keeping the baby a secret. I will not hide him in my basement. I would just like people to stop asking me about the state of my girly parts and accept that if there is something worth talking about I will share it with them...or not because what I keep in my underwear is my business.

I can't wait until the baby comes and everyone focuses on him instead of me. Even though I know that will give me a whole slew of reasons to roll my eyes.

Making a Baby: Weeks 35 through 38

Apparently the best way to get your readership up is to talk about your imminent baby and then disappear from the Internet. Haha! You have all been had. I'm not even having a baby. This has all been an elaborate hoax including photographic evidence of an increasingly scary/huge belly and a false double chin. (If you believe that, you deserve to be lied to.)

Okay, so I haven't written in a while because I've been staying away from my computer. I started maternity leave earlier than expected due to a colleague's personal problems, which would be great if I still had lots to do to get ready for the little guy's arrival. But I don't. And the long list of Things That Must Get Done is completed (bath dogs, paint stars on nursery ceiling, build furniture [no, not a metaphor or exaggeration], get the garden planted, prune trees, etc.). R keeps ordering me to the couch, where I sit for .05 sec until I've decided that the front room must be re-dusted, or that I should hand wash some dresses I won't be able to wear for another 3-4 months, or I notice that there are spots on the master bathroom mirror (and by notice I mean imagine, because I was sitting on the couch, remember?). Basically I'm failing at the rest/relax/put your feet up thing. But I'm TOTALLY winning at nesting. So there.

Also, I've been alternating between my sweet self and my crabby alter ego because baby get OUT! And R keeps muttering some nonsense trying to remind me that we haven't even hit his due date yet. But I'm swollen (if you comment that I'm swollen because I'm not staying off my feet I swear I will jump through this screen and strangle you with my sausage-like fingers), and I'm having a gazillion contractions, and my family members are calling me every day to ask about progress. Also, my mom has graciously made this about her, because she is tired of waiting, and she things things are taking too long, and she is lucky that I'm too bowling-ballish to successfully slip into her apartment and kill her in her sleep.

So tra-la-la. End of pregnancy is so glorious and wonderful.

On the bright side, I am dilating and effacing more - so sayeth the doctor yesterday. I am having tons of contractions and am officially in prelabor. Which means a baby will be coming...eventually. It could be today or next week or by the time I'm 90. Whenever.

With that tidbit of grumpy over sharing, I present to you, 4 weeks worth of belly pictures:

Week 35

Week 36

Week 37

Week 38

Oh, and fun fact. I have been reassured by not one but three different doctors that we don't have to worry about the baby being small. Because that's obviously reassuring. Though looking at these pictures does lend support to their statement. 

Dang! There's a baby in there!

Impending Baby Update

FYI: Progress is being made. Dilation and effacing are going on. So...things are progressing.

What does that tell us?

That a baby will definitely be coming, sometime, eventually, who the hell knows when.

So. That.

And there will be more belly pics posted. Probably. If I'm not too busy dusting the back of the entertainment center.

Until next time,
Swollen Ankles, signing off

How to freak out your husband

So those contractions I was talking about yesterday? They kept up. Also, I developed a need to do all the laundry, shelf paper the inside of dresser drawers, and prune a bunch of house plants.

When R got home, it was suggested to me that I sit on the couch and put my feet up because my ankles had disappeared, having been replaced with self-rising bread dough. R spent the rest of the evening and much of the night frantically completing last minute baby preparations as my contractions continued, seemingly at even intervals (again, can't feel them, so I spent most of the night with my hand on my tummy). Eventually, R brought me his phone, which has a contraction monitoring app, and I timed my contractions while he repacked the hospital bag, stopping only to poke his head around the door frame to call "what?" at every noise or movement I made. I read Harry Potter.

We are pretty sure that these are just Braxton-Hicks, and unless anything major changes (cause yeah, the contractions are still happening), we'll have that confirmed at the doctor's appointment today. I bet I have to get an internal exam. We had planned on putting that off another week, but at 37 1/2 weeks, it's in the appropriate time range...and probably reasonable considering nearly 24 hours of (possibly) steady contractions.

I totally wouldn't mind going into labor, but we had planned on picking up the last things we need this weekend. Seriously, the very last things...for now. Also, I wanted to buy more baskets. I am totally proving to R that you can never have too many baskets. Baskets to hold toys and clothes and diaper-related things. You know, all the essentials. Also also, we were going to have the neighbor kid, who has been kind enough to volunteer to look after the dogs while we are having the baby, actually go in the house without us and run through their schedule - more for his comfort than anything else.

Well, we'll see what happens. R left for work with a slightly panicked look in his eye (one of the last things we need to do is install the car seat; we had been waiting until after this weekend when we got a protector thing to lay under it and this is driving R completely crazy now). He closed the door behind him after saying, "I love you. Don't have a baby until I get back."

The word of the day is...

Contractions. Lots of them. Or maybe just a few ones that last for hours.

I don't seem to be able to feel them. My mom couldn't feel her contractions until she was at the end of the first stage of labor, and sometimes not even then. I've always said that I hoped it was genetic. Maybe it is? Or maybe, more likely, these are just practice contractions and I'll be able to feel the real things. But 90% of the time, when I touch my belly today, it's rock hard.

As someone who is obsessive likes to keep track of things, it's weirding me out that I can't tell something this basic. I keep imagining my doctor's appointment tomorrow where I try to explain this phenomenon.
Him (exasperated after my inexact responses): Is your uterus squeezing the crap out of you or not?
Me: Um...maybe. When I touch my tummy, it's all hard. So, probably?

Pure genius.

Preggo love

"I'm gonna miss the belly a little bit."

"Really? Why's that?"

"Because it's adorable and you're taking a little piece of me with you where ever you go."

This is a conversation I had with R. Seriously, could he be any sweeter?

Too bad, ladies, he's mine. I've got the enormous preggo belly to prove it...and to keep him hypnotized, apparently.

It's just like this, except I waddle back and forth with my shirt pulled up saying, "Stare deep into what remains of my belly button. Deeeeeep."  (source)

And, just so you don't leave this post with an unbalanced perspective on our relationship, here's another recent conversation.

Setting: Kohl's Department Store

Me (whining): And I want to get more shorts. These are the only shorts that fit me and I've never been thrilled with them.

R: That's fine. You can get new shorts.*

*Note: No, I do not have to ask permission. I just need someone to convince me that it's acceptable to spend money on myself because I am weird like that. Anyway, back to the story.

Me: There's shorts over here.

R (laughing): Of course you find shorts that are basically yoga pants.

Me: I could kill you in your sleep.

R: I love you.

The Bradley Method Child Birth Classes

Okay, is everyone ready to talk about pushing a baby out of your bits? Just kidding. Calm down.

I wanted to write about our child birth classes, because they were pretty awesome and someone, somewhere, might want to hear a candid assessment about learning the Bradley Method.

First of all, the Bradley Method is referred to as coach-led, meaning that you need a coach to come with you to each class. You know the person you want to be there with you at the birth, be it the baby's father, your partner, your mother, etc. etc. Originally it was called husband-coached, which is a bit behind the times, though you still might find that terminology used (probably by monks).

Anyway, the basic premise is that the coach learns to help the woman relax and cope during birth. The extra bonus, as far as I'm concerned, is it helps the coach stay relaxed by giving him a number of signals to monitor and tasks to focus on. So, if your coach is anxiety prone, get thee to Bradley Method classes.

The classes focus on maternal nutrition - special emphasis on protein, exercise, and accurate information about pregnancy, labor, and birth. Here's where I need to say that the Bradley Method is largely focused on natural, medication-free child birth. That said, our instructor wasn't at all pushy about avoiding medication, though some of the materials were definitely biased in that direction. I would recommend that even women expecting to use medication consider the Bradley Method classes, because sometimes, even though you expected a pain-free labor, things don't always go as planned. For instance, one of my good friends completely panicked when her baby was lying on a nerve, making an epidural completely ineffective. And by completely panicked, I mean she tried to get up and leave, screaming that she wasn't doing this. Another woman I know had to be put on medication that was incompatible with pain-relieving drugs. Neither of these women had any idea what to do and reported that their births were terrifying, so, IMHO, it's a good thing to be prepared.

Knowledge is power **cue the sappy music and start fighting over which person actually said that first - was it Sir Francis Bacon or Helen Keller?? Or maybe that came from G.I. Joe? Anyway...**

Here's a brief summary of the Bradley Method course: In addition to being assigned an ungodly number of kegals, there is a scheduled set of exercises to do each day. You track what you're eating. You learn to do progressive relaxation. You learn different positions for different stages of labor and your coach learns different ways to help relieve tension, pain, and discomfort in these different positions. You learn all about labor, things that slow it down and speed it up, what to do at each stage of labor, etc. You learn about the different tools and procedures you can expect to encounter at different birthing environments (hospitals, birthing centers, etc.) and the pros and cons of each. You also watch a fair number of videos showing women giving birth. I know how that sounds, but after seeing it go smoothly so many times, it actually starts to help you feel better about what you're in for.

Basically, the Bradley Method is about putting you in a position to take charge of your baby's birth. I really liked the practical approach: exercise, nutrition, information, and support. You're encouraged to ask your healthcare provider questions, which can really put you at ease. For us, it goes very well with how we were already preparing ourselves for our little guy's arrival. Also, instead of funny breathing, you learn about relaxation and other comfort measures. It completely involves my husband in the process. And, because there are 10-12 classes (usually 12, but ours were 10 extra long classes), you get to know a lot of expecting parents whose due dates are close to your own.

I'll let you know if I like the approach as much after I actually go through labor.

Making a Baby: Weeks 32, 33, and 34

Okay, obligatory pregnancy progress update (let's be honest, I'm doing it for myself, I just like to pretend other people care).

So, the further along I get, the less I seem to have to say. It's just more of the same with extra weight gain, groaning, and peeing.

The little guy is starting to work his way down. I first became aware of this because I had to get up 6 times during the night to pee and when I woke up in the morning I could actually breath. Also, some pretty excruciating pressure in my nethers.

Heartburn is not quite as molten and continuous, same for the shortness of breath. But all it takes is for the little guy to stretch and I find myself gasping for air and frantically reaching for Tums.

As he gets bigger, his movements are so much more obvious. I can feel the stirring of little limbs, which is somehow so sweet. And then he hauls back and kicks or punches me and I'm threatening to get the plunger because this kid has got to come out! There is just no more room in there!

My pelvis is loosening, my hips spreading. I told R I could feel it happening and two days later stretch marks started showing up on my hips. Ironically, still none on my enormous belly (now that I've written that, they'll show up tomorrow, just you wait).

I have officially begun to waddle. So that's fun. And R, who is a notoriously fast walker to begin with, is having a hard time not leaving me behind. I can barely keep up with his mosey at this point.

We have finished our birthing classes. I think I should write a post about the Bradley Method classes (spoiler: they were great). They deserve their own post.

And now onto the entertainment. I present to you, the ever-expanding belly:

Week 32

Week 33

Week 34

The little guy is putting on approximately a 1/2 lb. of baby fat a week at this point, and man can I feel the difference!

Dealing with Parenting Advice (aka Everyone's an Expert)

I have watched a lot of other people's kids. My dad insisted that I start paying for certain unnecessary teenagery things back when I was thirteen. Between those pesky child labor laws and the fact that I lived in Teeny Tiny Middle of Nowhere Montana, there weren't a lot of options. So I started babysitting.

I started small: my little brother's friends, neighbor kids. After a couple years, I was in charge of the children's room during Sunday service at the Methodist church and was the go-to sitter for the preschool (they had parent meetings and I was left with 15-20 four year olds...that's a great training program for either a crisis intervention specialist or a zoo keeper). By the end of high school, I had nannied for two different families over three different summers. Since then, I have babysat off and on, usually as favors to friends and family, and across one summer between getting my PhD and starting my real job because I apparently hate free time.

In summary, I have a lot of experience with kids. I should addend that to specify that I have a lot of experience with kids between 5 months and whatever age you want to use as a cutoff for 'kids.' (When I volunteered with the high school drama team this past fall, there were times I was basically babysitting 17 year olds.) I haven't spent too much time actually keeping a newborn alive, so that should be new and exciting *translation: exhausting and poop covered.*

Of course, this hasn't stopped anyone from giving me parenting advice. I'll be the first to admit, I'm not very good at accepting advice. Or even listening to advice. I put little stock into one person's idiosyncratic experiences, preferring to mix and match and also research. This is why I find listening to parenting advice to be extremely annoying. Sadly, today most parents have had little to no experience with children before having their own (I'm not judging, I've just seen the kind of panic this can lead to once their own arrives). Also, if you corner them, you can get most to admit that they don't really like children, they just like their own children.

Let me take a moment to say that I am not the authority on children. I know I have and will get frustrated, make mistakes, etc., etc., humility, etc. That said, I have been in a position to see how different parenting styles works with some kids, and how that same parenting approach can totally backfire for other kids (usually the first kid's sibling). It's like kids are little people with individual personalities and perspectives and shit. Crazy!

That said, I find most of the advice to be given in a very condescending manner. I know people assume that their experiences are shared by all, I've read that research, but it's ridiculous to think that everyone is approaching becoming a parent from the same place. And, honestly, it's insulting when you assume I've never prepared a bottle, fought an infant over a sleep routine, changed a diaper, or been followed into the bathroom by a toddler. As a sitter, I did get the benefit of going home at the end of the day (except for those two summers when I was a live-in nanny), but I had to handle all the behavioral issues without being able to even raise my voice, because they were never my kids. Yelling at someone else's kids is a no-no, for those of you who haven't been paid to keep other people's children alive.

Also, just because something did or didn't work for you and your child doesn't mean I will have the same experience. Again, there is that whole individuality thing.

"Seriously, it worked great for us!" (source)

But the worst aspect is this: if I choose to do something differently, that isn't passing judgment on you. This has nothing to do with you. This is about me and my family so stop sputtering and getting offended. [I've apparently been holding that one in for a while, sorry.]

Having said all that, in addition to having experience with kids, I have experience with adults, too. And I know that the advice isn't going to stop. I have years and years of advice to look forward to (I am so excited, I just threw up in my mouth). So this is my new strategy: I ask about something very specific that I don't know about or that will never apply to me. That way, the advice-giver can heap advice my way and I don't feel the urge to contradict them by pointing out that research has found the exact opposite to be true, or that I've had to use that same strategy in a dozen different households and it usually backfires. I don't know if this plan will work long-term, but the short-term effects have proven to be very good for my mood.

Making a Baby: Moving into the home stretch

Part of my brain is in a coma and all I want to do is snuggle on the couch and read the second Harry Potter book (approximately once a year I read all the Harry Potter series because I DON'T KNOW, that's why).

Monday was a busy day filled with baby. We had an OB appointment where it was once again announced that I am having a fabulous pregnancy and am the epitome of a healthy pregnant woman with a healthy, kicky fetus. Also, it turns out I am still small, have no more room for a baby, but I was assured that he'll make room. Awesome.

Then we ran errands before our Bringing Baby Home Class. This class is provided by a labor and delivery nurse from the hospital. She had a British accent, which made it more tolerable when she said blatantly incorrect or outdated things, like "newborns sometimes have swollen breasts and genitals because of excess fluid," rather than the correct answer, which is that baby's have been exposed to mommy's hormones. I was very proud of myself when I did not correct her and usually didn't whisper the correct answer to R. Usually.

On the bright side, we learned more about the specific hospital procedures we can expect during and after delivery. Also, R finally understands just how much the baby affects me because I have no torso. Oh comparison, you are a heartless bitch. You see, one of the women (honestly, she was probably 10 years younger than me and I wanted to be like: WHY are you doing this now?? Because she specifically said it was planned and her husband, who was an outstanding example of humanity and had courteously placed his nametag over his penis, making me wonder if he had nicknamed his genitals Collin, agreed wholeheartedly...but I digress) is due in less than 2 weeks and her long torso has almost hidden the baby. Seriously, her belly looked like mine did 10 weeks ago. After the class R kept repeating, "Really, she's due at the beginning of May?? Really?," and then he would stare meaningfully at my monstrous belly that was swaying and bucking because the baby did not stop kicking me all day Monday.

Next, we met with a pediatrician, who, thankfully, is awesome and we feel perfectly fine letting her stab our baby with needles for the next several years. So that finally got crossed off the list.

The following day (yesterday, in case you need reminding like I do) was filled with work-related madness. There's been some uncertainty about whether I will have much work to do next month. Basically, my schedule was cleared so I could write yet another grant, but the grant hasn't come out yet and now we have to worry about me having enough time to complete it before the baby arrives. Part of me is REALLY excited about the possibility of not working. I could read and relax and browse Etsy! Part of me, the part that also likes money and knows I need to avoid Etsy, is worried that I will drive myself crazy if I don't keep busy. After all, there isn't a lot left to do to get ready for our kicky monster (see what I did there? I made myself laugh. Yep, that's how tired I am).

R is terrified that if I'm not busy I will come up with a gazillion things for him to do. He's really afraid I'll want him to repaint the livingroom. Honestly, he should stop using that as an example, because it's giving me ideas.

Anyway, I'm still pregnant. Am starting to get super tired and run down. Heartburn and bathroom trips are seriously cutting into my sleep, and there's probably something else, but I forget.

I am so ready to have this baby.