A Time to Be Born, A Time to Die
Ron's friend, the one with cancer, passed away this weekend. Even though it was expected, I was surprised how quickly it happened, and when Ron told me, it sort of knocked the wind out of me.
We had a baby girl nine days ago. Pregnancy and post-pregnancy hormones can make one overly emotional, but I can't stop thinking about Ron's friend's family, his widow and his little boy. I can't imagine doing what I do every day on my own and I'm so ever thankful for the health of those I love.
Labels: Living, parenting, preggo
Made It
One of my fears was going into labor right before Christmas. Because I didn't want to be stuck in the hospital and miss the little dude opening all his gifts. Now that Christmas is over, I suppose anytime is good enough to go into labor, but I'd still prefer to go around my due date, January 12th.
Rolo didn't really start talking about the baby until the last few days. I would mention it, but he never brought it up on his own. But yesterday, we talked about the "new baby" (I'm trying to get out of the habit of saying that--"new baby"--it sounds like a replacement) and then he woke up from his nap later in the day, it was ALL he could talk about. He must have dreamed about the baby because I was getting some story about how the baby gave him a blue animal blanket.
Speaking of which, I have a decide on a present to give Rolo from the baby. Originally, it was going to be
this. It's something I still want to get him eventually, but looking around my post-Christmas apartment, I honestly don't know where we'd put it. One of the Christmas presents Ron was most excited to give Rolo was a basketball hoop, which is amazingly large. Like, the box was deceivingly small. Pieces kept on coming out and by the time it was assembled, it took over half the apartment. That combined with a
railroad track, an art easel and
new desk, and I don't think a mini piano is in the cards right now.
So what to get....
Rolo, however, has a very firm idea about what HE wants to get the baby. He's really into giraffes right now, and saw a "
Sophie the Giraffe" on a parenting magazine cover and was all about it. I explained that particular giraffe was a baby toy and then, on a whim, mentioned that we could go to the store one day and he could buy that for the baby. WELL. Since then, every time we go to a store, even the grocery store, he's been about finding the giraffe. Which I haven't found only because I haven't looked very hard. I'd love to think it's super-sweet that Rolo wants so desperately to find this toy for his little brother or sister, but in reality, I think he's using the baby as a cover to buy something HE wants. He ain't no fool.
Rolo, by the way, LOVED Christmas--what kid doesn't? And it's amazing what a bunch of new toys will do to distract one from the TV. Which is wonderful. So we've spent many hours cooking things up in his new tabletop kitchen, working on the alphabet on his new (toddler) computer), drawing Christmas trees on his easel and of course, playing basketball and trains. It's a wonderful time of year.
Labels: parenting, preggo, Rolo
Conversations
Me: We probably need to really start talking about names.
R: Well, boy names are hard. We have some girl names don't we?....Ella's still on the list, right?
Me: Yeah, it is. But I'm less enamoured with it than I was 2 years ago. We have a girl's middle name though, right? We're still using my mom's?
R: Yeah, that's fine.
Me: I sort of feel bad though. I mean, I feel like I should incorporate my grandmother's name somehow.
R: We could use her name, or your middle name, as a middle name.
Me: I know. But...I've sort of been set on using my mom's as a middle name. Still, I feel a little bad about not using my grandmother's.
(
pause)
R (
not unkindly): Your grandmother deserves it more.
Me (
sighing): I know.
Labels: conversations, preggo
The Complainer
I read Dooce a lot, at least a couple of times a week. Often I find her funny, many time meladramatic and whiny. And good God, has she been whiny during this pregnancy.
Take
this post for example. Each woman is different I suppose, but cervical checks are not that bad. Honestly. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not a warm and fuzzy feeling either but it's nothing really painful. For me, it didn't feel all that different from my annual exams. I was "checked" twice at weekly appointments--my last two--and then at least twice while I was in labor but before my epidural. And until I read this post, I had forgotten all about these checks. Maybe time has made my memory fuzzy but I really don't think it was as bad as Dooce describes here.
Let's hope she gets an epidural before she even goes into labor because methinks someone has an exceedingly low threshold for pain.
Labels: i like stories, preggo
Random Thoughts
I'm putting this here for no other reason than I want to be able to look back and see if I was right. And no, I'm not pregnant.
Since Rolo was born, I've felt that if we had another child, it will be another boy. We have a girl named picked out and in a way, I think I always envisioned having a boy and a girl. But it will be another boy. He will be named for his father, and he will have brown squinty eyes, dark skin and darker hair. In other words, he would look Italian, unlike my little Irish-looking Rolo. And so there would be Rolo and a new baby, brothers who look nothing alike. It always strikes me, when siblings look nothing alike, with different eye and hair color. Both my parents had light hair, skin and blue eyes. My brother and I don't think we look very similar but the reality is you can only look but so different when your parents have similar features to each other. Not the case with Ron and I.
Other random premonitions? That pregnancy number #2 wouldn't be nearly as pleasant as #1. While I loved being pregnant, my body was in good shape when I got pregnant. I've suffered from all sorts of bizarro aches and pains since then. And I can only imagine that being pregnant when you have nothing else to think about is a lot nicer than being pregnant while chasing a toddler around. This is my main argument for waiting to have a kid until Rolo is older. Plus, I'm probably due for some morning sickness or something.
Also, Rolo was an excellent baby. He was sick a lot but he had a great temperament. very pleasant. Good sleeper, good eater. I likely won't be as lucky next time. Whenever next time might be. Sometime in the next 5 years.
What do you think the next five years holds for you?
Labels: preggo, random, Rolo
Amen!
Mighty Girl tells it like it is.I, much to my surprise, basked in the glory of pregnancy. I loved it, loved my body, marveled in the changes. So I was shocked when after I had the baby, I felt disconnected from my body. It felt weak and broken. It's been nearly 10 months, and I'm still not back to form. I'm not just talking weight here, I'm talking about knowing how your body works and then after childbirth, it not working like that anymore. As I've said before, my pregnancy was easy, my labor was pretty easy, but recovery? I can't emphasize enough how much I underestimated how physically altering childbirth is. It takes a long time to heal, mostly in subtle ways. But I'm not 100% yet and I wonder sometimes if I ever will be. People ask when I'll have another baby (as though it's something one orders from Amazon.com) and honestly, getting pregnant again before getting this body back in shape, strengthening it, would be about the worst thing I could do to myself, and by association, to my children.
Labels: preggo
The Labor Story
Be forewarned that parts of this are TMI. Here it is :
July 31st, 11pm
Ron and I go to bed.
August 1st, 12:30am
I awake to a strange wet sensation
down there, and immediately think "My water broke." I hurry to the bathroom, sit on the toilet and look at my underwear. There is a wet spot, although not a very, very large one, so I begin to wonder if I just leaked urine in my sleep. Gross. I pee, wipe, and notice pink streaks on the toilet paper. I whip around and look in the toilet and see my mucus plug staring back at me. I had wondering if I would know what a mucus plug looked like. Trust me, when you see it, you know it.
Still, passing your mucus plug doesn't necessarily mean that labor is immiment. It could still be days away. And I don't seem to be leaking anything....so I decide to put on a pad, go downstairs and find one of my pregnancy books to read up on water breaking. No point in waking Ron yet.
12:45am
Book advises me to lay down, as the baby's head can act like a cork when standing (lovely, right?), to see if I'm still leaking fluid. With no concern for my poor sofa, I lay down for about 5 minutes. Nothing.
12:50am
I decide the book gives too generic a description of one's water breaking, and that I need to jump on the internet. Those crazy internet people have all sorts of water-breaking stories, I bet. I also start to feel like an idiot for not being able to tell whether my water broke. I mean, I should be able to tell, right?
12:52am
Log onto a discussion board.
12:53am
Feel a strange sensation
down there. Realize I must get to a bathroom, PRONTO.
12:53am
Don't quite make it to the bathroom and no longer have any doubt about whether my water broke. Am amazed that the pad did nothing to absorb the aftermath.
12:55am
Gentley shake Ron's shoulder and say, "My water broke" and get "Are you serious?" as a response. Yes, honey, it's 1am and I thought this was a great time for a practical joke.
1 am
The physican on-call returns my call and tells me that I can either come in or wait at home for awhile since I'm not feeling any contractions. Of course, if I can't feel the baby move, I should come in right away. It dawns on me that I haven't been paying attention to whether the baby is moving at all.
1:15am
My whole abdomen feels tight and I'm not sure I feel the baby moving. But I don't want to be paranoid either. I take a shower and finish packing my bag. Ron does the same and keeps remarking about how calm I am.
2am
I finally tell Ron that I'm not sure the baby is moving. Like I think that the baby is moving, but I can't really tell. Ron resists the urge to throw me over his shoulder and run us to the hospital. He tells me to hurry up getting ready.
2:30am
We drive to the hospital, which strikes me as funny since we only live 5 blocks away. I check into the emergency room and the admissions clerk takes my information. The ER is empty and the admissions clerk is nice. Both of these things surprise me. The admissions clerk tells me that I must not be having contractions because I am way too happy. She's right.
2:45am
The hospital transport person arrives with a wheelchair, but sees I'm in no pain and allows me to walk up to the Labor and Delivery floor. The intake clerk gets all my information and then tells me to dump the bottle of water I'm drinking because I'm not allowed to drink anything from this point on. She seems grouchy, so I try to charm her by telling her she has excellent penmanship.
3am
My nurse checks for the baby's heartbeat and to our relief, it's still there. In fact according to the monitor, I'm having contractions, little one, and I just can't feel them. Fine by me. I'm 2 cm dialated and 60% effaced, which is exactly how much I had been the day before at my doctor's appointment. The nurse is concerned that my blood pressure is so high. They check my fluid and determine that yes, indeed, my water has broken and I'm not going home any time soon. They move me to a L&D room, which Ron and I agree is smaller than some closets we have. I walk to that room on my own, not knowing yet that it will be the last time I'm allowed to walk any distance.
3:30am
The doctor whom I spoke to on the phone comes in and talks to me about my options. I can either take pitocin, or we can wait a few hours and see what happens. If I don't start contracting naturally, they'll need to induce me to prevent infection. I know pitocin can make contractions more painful so I opt for a "wait and see" approach. The doctor agrees. Concerned about my pressure, she tells me that I can't walk around while in labor--something I had planned on being able to do. The nurses slap a "Fall Risk" bracelet on my wrist. She asks whether I'm having a boy or girl and I tell her I don't know. She seems shocked by this.
5am
The nurse remarks repeatedly what great veins I have. I know this. I've donated blood enough times to know that my veins are a nurse's dream. However, in her attempt to put in my IV, this nurse manages to blow out the vein. She tries a different vein and collapses that one too. She (thankfully) gets another nurse, but they have to put the IV in my right arm instead of the left one. As I'm right-handed, this does not please me. They ask if I'm having a boy or a girl. I tell them I don't know. They also seem surprised by this.
7am
A new nurse comes on duty. She offers me frozen yogurt. It's peach, which isn't my favorite, but considering I'm not supposed to be eating anything, I decide I love this nurse. Her name is Helina. I ask her if I can paint my nails while I'm waiting for this labor thing to start. She laughs and says it's fine. Ron shakes his head and can't believe I'm giving myself a manicure while in labor.
7:10am
The woman in the room next to me is moaning loudly. They really should make these rooms sound-proof.
8am
I start to feel crampy. I tell Ron to check the monitor and sure enough I'm having a contraction. Whoohoo.
8:20am
I decide that contractions feel a lot like mentrual cramps. They also make me feel like I need to go to the bathroom. The bathroom is just outside my room, giving me the opportunity to walk about 10 steps.
8:22am
I love the bathroom. It's cooler in here. I feel better in this type of sitting position. Plus, since I'm leaking fluid anyway, it makes sense to me to be over a toliet. But I start to worry that the nurses or Ron will worry if I stay in the bathroom too long. So I relucantly wash up and leave.
8:40am
I again make my case for being allowed to walk around. But the doctor is firm. With my pressure as high as it is, I could pass out while walking.
8:50 am
The anesthesiologist comes in to talk to me about pain management options. At this particular hospital, it's an epidural or bust. I thought I'd have more options, I remark. Helina says she can give me morphine, but that some babies don't respond well to morphine. I decide not to take the morphine. The anesthesiologist proceeds to tell me all the risks with an epidural including paralyzation. Perfect. I sign the forms, so when I need the epi, I can get it. The anesthesiologist asks if I want the epidural now. It seems awfully early in the process to me and I'm just uncomfortable, not in real pain, so I decline.
9am
The woman next door is screaming. Like seriously. And this isn't the side of the floor where you actually deliver, so it's not like she's pushing or anything. She's just having contractions. I ask Helina if there's something they can give her for the pain. Helina says she already has an epidural.
9:01am
I seriously want not to be in labor anymore. I mean if this woman is screaming bloody murder with the epidural, it's got to be bad, right?
9:15am
A new doctor comes in to check on me and I'm not really fond of him. He remembers that Ron is a doctor--for some reason when you're having a baby, they repeatedly ask what you and your husband do for a living. I guess they want to make sure your answer isn't "sell crack". Anyway, this doctor is way, way more interested in talking to Ron about medicine than he is in me. I find this somewhat irritating.
9:40am
I'm bored and sick of listening to the screaming lady.
10:30am
Ron notices I'm starting to hold my breath during contractions. He instructs me to breathe. Thanks, Ron. Helina comes back in to check my vitals and asks whether I'm having a boy or a girl. I tell her I don't know and she seems pleased by this. She loves surprises.
10:45am
We start doing breathing exercises. Residents and nurses are in and out of the room to check on me. They keep asking me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10. I have no idea how to do this. I mean, I don't want to rank my pain high too early. I've never really been in pain in my life and I have no idea what my pain tolerance is like. So I keep saying it's a 4.
11am
I notice the contractions are decidely more manageable when I'm walking to the bathroom. I curse my high blood pressure. This would be more manageable if I could walk around.
11:15am
I consider screaming, "Shut the fuck up" to the woman next door.
11:45am
I look at Ron and say "I'm going to need that epidural soon." Ron seems totally calm except that his eyes start frantically looking for the nurse. He knows if I'm asking for it, it must be getting bad.
11:50am
I tell Helina that I'm thinking about the epidural. But is there any way they can check if I'm dialated any further? I'm not sure why I think this matters. I think my logic was that if I was still only 2 cm, I'd still have a long road ahead of me and should hold off on the drugs.
12pm
The resident comes in and checks me: 4 cm! Progress! Epidural, please! Then the resident asks if I'm having a boy or a girl. Helina and I both tell her that I don't know. She jumps up and down and says "Oh a surprise!" Seriously, does EVERYONE find out the sex of their kid?
1pm
The anesthesia team comes in and Ron has to leave the room. I'm sad he has to leave. The doctors explain what they're going to do, but I barely hear them. I'm too freaked out that I must remain completely still while they insert the needle. The nurse, who is not Helina and who is about 7 months pregnant herself, holds my arms while I sit on the edge of the bed. I feel the needle go in, but it's not that bad. The team leaves and the nurse helps me back into bed.
1:10pm
I feel funny in my legs. I realize that they're going numb. I then notice that my contractions seem to be considerably less painful. The nurse leaves and suddenly I realize that no one probably thought to find Ron and tell him we're done.
1:20pm
The resident comes in to check my pain level. I ask her to find Ron. She starts to ask what he looks like and then says "Oh never mind, I think you're the only one in here with a husband." Well, okay then.
1:25pm
Ron comes back and asks how I'm feeling. I tell great except I still have alittle pain in the left side of my abdomen.
1:28pm
Pain on that left side is getting worse.
1:30pm
I tell Helina that all my pain is gone, except for one section of my left side. She tells me to lay on that side to help the medicine "fall" to that side. This sounds incredibly dumb to me but I heart Helina so I roll over.
1:45pm
This laying on my side thing is not working. I tell Ron, Helina and anyone else who will listen to me that this laying on my side thing is not working. Helina agrees to get the anesthesia dude back.
2pm
The doctor comes back in and tickles my neck with a feather. Yes, I can feel that. Then he tickles my leg with it--nope, no feeling there. Then he tickles my left side with it. Yes, yes, I feel that. He gives me another boost of meds, which feels like cool water running down my spine.
2:05pm
Being pain-free is awesome.
2:20pm
The resident comes in to check me. I'm 9 centimeters dialated and 100% effaced! Time to move over to the delivery side of the floor. I'm elated over this progress.
2:30pm
Ron and I comment that there is an infant warming bed in the room. How about that! We're going to have an infant! The idea that we will have a baby soon seems surprising.
3pm
Curious sensation on my left side.
3:10pm
Curious sensation starts to feel like the beginning of pain. I ask Ron whether I should ask for more meds. The anesthesia team is super busy on the floor, and while I can handle the pain I'm currently having, I don't want to be in the midst of pushing and in agony because the anesthesia people are busy. I ask Helina to get anesthesia. She comes back with more peach yogurt. I love her.
3:20pm
Different anesthesia dude comes in, but he too has that damn feather thing. I pass the test and he gives me another hit of medicine. At the same time, the resident comes in to check me again. Nine and a half centimenters. Ron and I keep remarking about how weird it will be to have a baby. Helina wants us to name it Ron if it's a boy, which she's convinced it is. I dose off again.
3:30pm
Helina asks if I need to go to the bathroom. I tell her I have no idea. She says she'll empty my bladder. I am horrifed and although it makes total sense, I did not realize there would be a catherer involved.
3:45pm
A doctor I really like, Dr Kim, has been on duty now, but will be leaving at 5pm. He'll be replaced by a doctor I've never met. Helina is determined for me to have this baby before 5pm so Dr. Kim can handle the delivery. She tells Dr. Kim that he's staying until I deliver. She also tells him that I don't know if I'm having a boy or a girl. I begin to sense that people may be placing bets.
3:55pm
Another resident checks me. Ten centimeters! It's go time!
3:56pm
Suddenly, things go into fast forward mode. I should have expected this, but for some reason, I'm surprised that the residents are suddenly rushing around, bringing in carts of equipment.
4pm
The nurse instructs Ron to grab one of my legs and hold it up. Ron gives her a look that clearly says "Lady, I am so not here to do any work" but he does what she says.
4:05pm
The nurse tells me when to push, because the meds are so good I have no idea when I'm having a contraction. I know I'm supposed to push like you would if you're going to the bathroom. I figure this will be no problem since I've been going to the bathroom my whole life, right? Well, let me tell you, when you have no sensation from the waist down, you all of a sudden have no idea if you're pushing right. I must be doing a good job though because Ron and Helina are cheering.
4:20pm
Lots of pushing. Which I strangely don't mind, because it doesn't hurt. I am, however, worried that I'm going to be one of those people who push so hard that the capillaries in their face break.
4:30pm
There's a head--with hair! Ron is excitedly talking about lots of hair. The resident comes back in and is also excited about the hair. I think it's cute that she's so excited.
4:35pm
Helina asks if I'd like a mirror so I can see the head when I push. I say, hell no. Ron asks me if I'm sure, and I assure him that I am. At least for now. Maybe if I need motivation, I'll reconsider the mirror.
4:50pm
Helina, Ron and the resident are still cheering me on. I can't get over how excited Ron is. All of them cheering makes me less tired somehow. I continue pushing, but begin to worry that my eyeballs are going to pop out. Does that ever happen? Because I feel like it could happen. I'm so concerned about this, that I don't notice that Ron has stopped mentioning the mirror. Later I'll learn this is because I started to tear and he knew there was NO WAY I'd want to see that.
4:55pm
Helina and the resident realize "the time has come". Things start moving in fast forward again. Helina runs to get Dr. Kim, and comes back wearing a sterile, disposable gown, mask and hat. I think those hats are funny. The residents also put all this gear on. Dr. Kim rushes in, with what appears to be a clear shield over his face. He's also wearing those plastic pants that fishermen wear. One of the residents, the super-enthusiastic one, also puts on the fact shield and the pants...or maybe they're just tall boots.
5:05pm
More with the pushing, only now Dr. Kim has joined in the cheering. They tell me the head is coming and sure enough I feel some vague pressure down there. Helina asks me if I'd like the baby placed on my chest before they clean him or her. I surprise myself by saying I would like the baby on my chest. Dr. Kim tells me to stop pushing. Ron is describing the head to me "There is SO MUCH hair!!".
5:10pm
The rest of the body slides out and the resident, the excited one, says in what seems like the slowest words ever to be spoken, "It's a..it's a...it's a boy!". Everyone is cheering. Ron and I are both laughing and crying. Ron cuts the cord. Helina, in a very stern voice tells the resident, who had started bringing the baby over to the warming bed to clean him, "You bring that baby right over here and put him on mom's chest. We'll clean him here." I look down and see his tiny, poofy face with a ton of hair on his head. It is the most beautiful little head I'd ever seen. Moments later, Helina slaps a bracelet on my wrist with my name, address, a number and one other word: "Mother".
And that, my friends, is how I became someone's mother.
Labels: baby, preggo
A Letter to My Body
Dear Body,
In case you haven't noticed, and I'm not sure how you could have missed it, I am breastfeeding. It's true that only occasionally does Rolo himself latch on, that mostly it's a machine, but it still counts. That Rolo is fed entirely with breast milk means that I breastfeed. So it totally counts.
Most women don't get their period while breastfeeding. So I demand an explanation as to why you thought it would be a good idea for me to get mine. I mean I've been wearing a pad or liner or something every second of every day for the last two months. I was excited that I was down to just a liner. Now? Now it's back to the pad. I'd like to be comfortable. Really, just for a day.
And it's not like this is just a regular cyle. You've decided, over the last week, to keep me on my toes. One day bleeding, the next day, not so much. Or a couple of days without bleeding and then WHAMO! Aunt Flo is in the house. It's like you're taunting me, daring me to go anywhere without a supply of pads with me. I think you are out to get me.
So if you could just lay off the menstruating thing, I'd really appreciate it.
Thanks a bunch,
DJ Heavy
Labels: not the mama, preggo
Lately
Well I'm back to work. Sort of.
On Friday night, I took Ron to
Penang. We'd both been before, although not with each other. Since it's a chain (I think), I'm not sure how authentic the food is, but I always get the same thing anyway. I'm not too adventurous with my food and I alway get the mango chicken. Mainly because it's the one thing on the menu that I can actually tell what it is. And it's good. Also very good is the Indian pancake appetizer. Super yum. The decor is nothing particularly spectacular and it's pretty loud when it's crowded. Penang is Malaysian, but as far as ambience goes, if I'm going to Chinatown, I prefer
Vietnam Restaurant, which is obviously Vietnamese. My palate is not particularly refined, so alot of Asian cuisine tastes similar to me.
Saturday we went to my parents' house for my dad's birthday. My parents couldn't be more thrilled to see Rolo. They are totally smitten and it warms my heart to see that. Rolo has started smiling routinely now, and you would think my parents won the lottery each time he smiled at them. Of course he also smiles at the ceiling, the TV and the inside of his stroller, but who cares? They're very bitter people, my parents, and I think Rolo is beginning to mend their broken hearts.
Sunday was our niece's christening and I had two beers at the party afterward! Whoohoo!
This week and next I'm going to try to establish some sort of schedule for Rolo, since I'm eventually going to need to actually leave the house for work each day and get Rolo to day care. I'm also going to try to reintroduce exercise to my routine. Just power walking to start. I have 10 pounds to lose to be about my pre-pregnancy weight. And I really have another 5 to lose on top of that to be at my ideal weight. But I'll settle for 10 for now. I gained a ton of weight at the end of my pregnancy because of fluid retention, so I've lost about 30 pounds already. But really that was mainly fluid that I sweat out, so it was effortless. This other 10 is not going anywhere without me doing some work. My diet has also gone downhill (it's much easier to eat a donut with one hand than it is to have a bowl of cereal with fruit when your infant is screaming) so I need to start behaving on that front too.
Time to start getting back (somewhat) to my normal life.
Labels: fitness, food, preggo, random
After the Delivery
A couple of things about post-delivery that no one talks about too much:
1. The mother of all periods. I stole that phase from
Jane Buckingham's book, "The Modern Girl's Guide to Motherhood." In the book she writes something to the effect of "You know those super fat maxi pads with wings that you see in the store and you think, who wears those? Those, my friend, are now made for you." It's been 5 and a half weeks and I'm still wearing a pantyliner every moment of every day. Which is at least a big improvement of the super maxi.
2. Lots of crying. My first meltdown was the day after Rolo was born, when I was still in the hospital, just about 30 minutes before loads of our friends and family showed up to visit. That meltdown was induced by the lactation nazis. But I had a cry-fest pretty much every day for the first 10 days after Rolo was born. It did get better after that.
3. Total exhaustion. I've mentioned this before. I had a pretty easy pregnancy, and a pretty easy labor. I was never in any real pain. My recovery wasn't bad, but I couldn't believe how weak I was for weeks after I delivered. I couldn't walk very far. Stairs killed me. I was just so winded. And I expected that the first couple of days after I had Rolo, but it shocked me that I still felt so tired 3 weeks later.
4. It is totally normal to want to throw your kid out the window. Figuratively of course. But you know it's not one big joyfest. It's a really big change and I'd be lying if I said there are moments you don't want to give up.
5. People will offer to bring you food. Accept the food.
6. If you're married or in a serious relationship, you'll get to see what it's really made of. I've never really needed to be taken care of, at least not since childhood. But post-delivery, I needed to be taken care of both physically and emotionally, and Ron was wonderful. He's used to me being independent, but he filled the role of caretaker without missing a beat. With both of us being totally exhausted, it might be easy to snap at each other, but instead, we fell into teamwork mode. Each of us may have an "off" day, and the other just takes over. The defining moment for us as a family so far was my third day home from the hospital, when the pediatrican informed us that the nurse-bitches at the hospital has us underfeeding Rolo and then the same day I passed a blood clot the size of Texas. I was convinced something was really wrong and Ron, Rolo and I all sat in the living room crying.
7. No matter how prepared you think you are, you're not.
Labels: baby, preggo
The Incredible Shrinking Uterus
I left the hospital earlier this month looking about 6 months pregnant, which I had expected because all the books tell you that you will look 6 months pregnant when you give birth and that you better bring maternity clothes to go home in. Like I was planning on wearing my Levi's skinny jeans home or something.
Anyway, by 10 days post pardum, I was able to fit into some of my larger size regular clothes. Now my maternity clothes don't fit, but most of my regular clothes don't either, so I'm having a bit of a fashion crisis. Maybe I need to go shopping.
My abdomen, of course, bore the brunt of the weight gain. I expected that. But it seems my ass and hips got their share of it too. I had expected not to be able to button my old pants, but it's disheartening to not be able to get them over your hips. But, then again, since it's only been 3 weeks and I haven't exercised at all, I can't really complain. I may not have my old figure back, but you wouldn't know I was pregnant recently either. Plus, according to Hollywood standards, I still have 3 weeks before I have to be ready to walk the runway.
By the way, it's weird not being pregnant anymore.
Three more weeks until my 6 week post-pardum doctor's visit and at that, I'm expecting the green light to get back into an exercise routine. Which means I need to decide on a gym to join. In the meantime, I've got to start taking Rolo for regular walks. This week has been a complete wash because of the rain.
What they don't tell you is how completely exhausted you'll be after giving birth. I'm not talking about sleep deprivation--that's a whole other thing. I mean getting winded from walking up a flight of stairs. I mean walking 10 blocks and being quite certain you can't walk back home. You all know I was in shape, that I had been working out until about 3 weeks before Rolo was born. So it shocked me to be this weak for this long. Just in the last day or so, it's gotten better.
Baby steps, I suppose. No pun intended.
Labels: fitness, preggo
On Being Pregnant, Part 2
Yesterday, I had an ultrasound, because one of my doctors was a little concerned about growth, because my abdomen has been measuring small. With the whole CF factor, she wanted to take every precaution/measurement/test available. Turns out the little peanut is measuring just fine and weighs 7lbs 9 oz. In case you're in on our baby pool, which includes guessing the weight, I'm not really giving anything away, as the ultrasound can be off by as much as a pound in either direction. Anyway, the ultrasound wasn't as fun as previous ones, because the more fat on the baby, the harder it is to see the images. So...really, you can't tell it's a baby anymore.
Today I have my weekly doctor's appointment, along with my weekly non-stress test--another precaution because of the CF factor. All these appointments are starting to get on my nerves.
I thought of
a couple of other things I've learned:
11. Don't totally "give up" once you're pregnant. Being pregnant is not an excuse to stop wearing makeup or for wearing sweats out in public regularly. Do not run out and buy a minivan the second you get a positive test result.
12. If you see someone who's pregnant, do not ask "Are you having a boy or a girl?" and then act like the person must be retarded when the answer is "I don't know."
13. If you're pregnant, consider not being a total control freak and opt not to find out the gender of your baby. Sorry, that was judgemental of me. But seriously, as much as I
want to know, not knowing is incredibly fun. Yes, it makes picking out bedding and outfits harder. But you have the rest of their lives to know their gender and only 9 months of it being the greatest surprise of your life.
14. If you do find out the gender, for God's sake, don't start referring to him or her by name before he or she is born. That's just fucking weird.
Labels: CF, preggo
On Being Pregnant
I am tired.
I'm not as tired as I thought I would be by now, but waking up 5 times a night does take its toll. That I don't even get to bed until after midnight most nights, what with the unpacking and the Ikea runs, doesn't help.
Tomorrow I will be 38 weeks pregnant, which is full term. Technically, I still have two weeks to go, but really, it could be any time now. I haven't given this much real thought, as I've been distracted by the move. I don't know if this distraction is a good thing. On one hand, I'm not obsessing and freaking out about the thought of labor. On the other hand, I probably haven't mentally prepared myself for this at all. I still haven't really packed a hospital bag.
Being pregnant is totally different than I thought it would be. I expected a horrible pregnancy, one where I was sick and fatigued all the time. My mother was sick every day for nine months and I thought I'd be the same way. And because I never had the uncontrollable desire to procreate that so many women seem to be programmed with, I expected that I would resent being tired, fat and miserable.
With the exception of the CF thing, which really has nothing to do with pregnancy, I have been incredibly lucky. Being pregnant has...basically not affected me. Sure, the last few weeks have been somewhat uncomfortable, but generally speaking, the last nine months have passed with little effect. I can't say I've really basking in the joys of pregnancy. But I haven't minded it. In fact, it's been kind of nice. Like I have a little buddy that I carry around with me wherever I go. And the best thing about that buddy is that he/she doesn't cry, eat or poop yet.
I expect that labor will be some long, torturous experience, but who knows? My body might surprise me again. Certainly, no one has been more surprised than me that I seem to be suited to pregnancy.
A couple of things I've learned:
1. Maternity clothes. If you wouldn't wear it before you were pregnant, don't make yourself wear it now. I mean, you will have to succumb to the elastic waistband, the unlined pant and flowing shirts. But if you didn't wear pastel floral patterns with little bows all over before you were pregnant, don't do it now. Don't feel like you have to run out and stock up on maternity shirts as soon as you get a positive test result. Look around the stores you already shop in. Chances are, they have some empire waist tops and more generously cut shirts that will fit well into your second trimester. I found lots of non-maternity options at Banana Republic, Ann Taylor Loft and Macy's--some of which I still am wearing now. Also, even if you didn't do it before, there's nothing wrong with shopping at Target. In fact, just about all my real maternity clothes came from Target, Gap and Motherhood. There's no point in spending a fortune on maternity clothes, because the quality of your Diane von Furstenberg pants will be the same as the ones you get at Target.
2. Don't feel like you have to change your lifestyle just because you're pregnant. Of course, if your pregnancy is high-risk, you may have to take some extra precautions, but for the rest of you, just keep living your life. If you exercise, keep exercising. Listen to your body instead of listening to what they tell you not to do in the books. Don't push yourself too hard, but don't assume you can't do as much just because you're pregnant. Continue to go out with your friends. Go out for happy hour.
3. Speaking of the books, go ahead and read them. Then decide which parts seem to work for you. Don't take everything they tell you as gospel. Don't let the books make you paranoid.
4. Avoid pregnancy message boards.
5. If you aren't someone who enjoys having people touch your stomach, don't make your pregnancy the feature topic of every conversation. The more you talk about it, the more interest people will show, and the more likely they are to touch you. I've only had 2 people touch my stomach in the last nine months and fortunately for them, they happen to be two people I like. If you are some sort of freak who enjoys people touching you, don't insist that they touch your stomach. Freak.
6. Speaking of talking about it,
for God's sake, don't tell the whole world as soon as you get a double pink line on a stick. In the last couple of months I've had two women tell me they were pregnant, only to have to later tell me that they weren't. Miscarriages happen. A lot. Wait at least until you've heard a heartbeat.
7. Don't assume everyone wants to hear about your pregnancy 24/7. They don't.
8. Regarding work, aside from preparing your boss and/or anyone else who may be affected by your maternity leave, there's really no reason to talk about your pregnancy at work. I had one co-worker once who felt it was necessary to detail every pregnancy symptom she was having with me. So not necessary.
9. Do not move when you are 9 months pregnant.
10. I'm too tired to think of a 10th thing I've learned. I'm going to have some ice cream instead.
Labels: On, preggo
Brava!
I enjoy
this article immensely.
Labels: preggo, society
Update
I'm still here.
I'm taking some time off from work in the next few days to try to make some unpacking progress. Boxes are everywhere and I still can't get a handle on where to put everything.
We decided to get this
baby furniture set in the cherry color. Actually, we're just getting the crib and dresser for now, until I can figure out how much extra space we'll have in the room.
I have swollen up like a balloon. I've gained 33 pounds, but I'm trying to attribute some of that to fluid and not to my nightly ice cream ritual. At first my ankles were gone. But now my hands, arms, legs and sometimes face decide to take part in the fluid retention party. It's pretty. My pressure is fine, so it's nothing to be alarmed by, but it takes a bit of a toll. This is why people avoid having babies in August. Apparently, I didn't get that memo.
Also, I'm not working out anymore, because not only did my gym membership expire, but even if I had a gym accessible, I have zero time to dedicate to working out. With 3 weeks left to go, my priority is to organization.
At least today I'm feeling pretty positive. Yesterday I was convinced the world was coming to an end. Well, not really, but I was convinced that I was going to go into labor and have the baby sleeping in a U-Haul box. Today, however, I have more energy and will make some progress tonight. And then I plan on sleeping late tomorrow and dedicating the rest of the day to unpacking.
And then I'll reward myself with a dinner of guacamole and chips.
Labels: moving, preggo
Moved!
So, everything is out of the old place and into the new and boy, do we own a LOT of stuff/ I have no idea where it's all going. I only know that I need to buy more stuff to put the smaller stuff in. I miss the storage in my old place already.
On Friday and early Saturday, I felt pretty sad about leaving the old place and the old neighborhood. But by the end of day Saturday, I was feeling a lot better about it. The new place is nice, a lot more modern than my old place--totally different style. I've been doing laundry like crazy, because the wonder of having my own washer/dryer is intoxicating. My life is exciting, no? Then on Sunday, Ron and I grabbed a quick breakfast at Cosi and lo and behold, who should walk by but my friend Michelle? It was a nice reminder that there are perks to the new neighborhood. Namely, being closer to my peeps.
Of course, just in time for the move, annoying pregnancy symptoms slammed into high gear. I swear it wasn't intentional, but I was just about completely useless during the weekend. I didn't move a thing, but the simple task of standing for most of the day and unpacking totally wiped me out. At least now, our furniture is laid out so I can sit when I'm home. Tonight will be a little unpacking, a lot of purging and hopefully, alot of sitting down. Tomorrow is another doctor's appointment.
For some reason Blogger won't let me title this post. Weird.
Labels: moving, preggo
Taking Vaca
Okay, so I'm obviously not taking a vacation for reals, but I'm most likely taking a short blogging vacation. Work is nuts, and I'll be without internet access for a few days at home while we move. Also, I'll be busy losing my mind.
The packing has progressed considerably, although I have a feeling we still have lots to pack despite it looking like a majority of everything is in boxes. I'm picking up the keys to the new place later today and Ron and I are going to move some clothes in tonight. Tomorrow, his brother-in-law is coming to help Ron move some of our breakables (i.e.
my beloved china) and then the movers will be here on Saturday for everything else. My mother-in-law is insisting on going to the new apartment tomorrow to clean as well.
I went to see my doctor on Tuesday and after having her entire hand up my hoo-ha, I learned that the baby is head down and
right there, as they say. I'm also a whopping one centimeter dialated and starting to efface. Too much info? Oh well.
Now all that doesn't really mean anything. I could walk around every day of my life being one centimeter dialated. But for some reason I feel like I've accomplished something. Like one down, only nine more to go! Of course, I'd like those other nine to happen in late July and not next week. Hell, those other nine centimeters could wait until sometime next year for all I care. Babies are hard work, and I enjoy sleeping.
What Tuesday did, however, was make this baby thing a reality. Like it really, really hit me. One, because of that doctor's visit. Two, a woman's water broke at a wedding we were at. And I mean it broke like all over the freaking place. She was completely freaked out and started hyperventilating. It was only 3 weeks before her due date, but still, it caught her off guard. But it gave me something new to worry about, because I hadn't really thought about the possibility of my water breaking in a gushing fashion while out in public. You see that sort of thing on TV shows, but most people don't seem to experience it quite that way in real life.
Oy.
Anyway, I will miss you all for the next few days and hope you will miss me. As soon as we're settled, I hope to be back to my regular posting.
Labels: moving, preggo
Fluid Retention Sucks
I used to have ankles. Just the other day, in fact, I had ankles.
Ankles are nice. I liked having them.
Labels: preggo
It's Raining Babies
I have the great fortune to have surrounded myself with some of the most wonderful people in the world. My husband, in-laws and several of my friends threw me a baby shower on Saturday. It was completely overwhelming.
I had figured that I'd eventually have some sort of shower. What I didn't expect was that so many people would pitch in and work together to make it happen. I can't quite put into words what I was feeling, but I love that the different people in my life get along and any walls that separate my social circles are coming down. Even my brother was there (it was a Jack& Jill type shower) and I about fell over when I saw him.
People were really generous and got most everything we needed. Ron, proving once again that he's not as dumb as I might think sometimes and really is the best husband in the world, got me a
Bugaboo Frog in red, which I call my 'Boo. I'm thrilled. I started bawling, not just because the sight of a Bugaboo was so beautiful, but because it hit me at that moment that Ron, my in-laws and my friends must have gone through so much effort to plan all this. Being surrounded by people who care about you is a wonderful thing.
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
Labels: baby, preggo
Gender Stereotyping Begins Already
So we're trying to decide what outfit the baby will wear home (like that's of paramount importance, right?) . Do we just get a blue outfit and a pink outfit and return whichever we don't need? Which means Ron would actually have to wash whichever outfit we needed between the time the baby was born and the time we were released from the hospital. Which means, you know, he would need to OPERATE A WASHING MACHINE. Unheard of, I know.
Or, do we just get a gender neutral outfit?
In the gender neutral category (at least in my book) are
these onesies that I think are adorable. And they have matching socks. I really like the "Orange You Cute" one. The problem? Ron thinks it's too girly.
What? It's a WHITE onesie with ORANGE trim. How, I ask, is that too girly? The watermelon one with pink trim--sure, maybe that's not quite what I had in mind for a boy, but orange? C'mon.
Labels: baby, preggo
