Answering Questions: Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Mama Edition.

What the biggest challenge you have faced in becoming a mama?

Probably the whole job thing - realizing I couldn't do it and having to quit during maternity leave. That was probably one of the hardest conversations I've ever had to have. I adored my job and co-workers, and hated to surprise them like that. I know it was the right thing to do, but it was so difficult, especially since I'm a people pleaser.

What are your favorite must-have baby products you have purchased? Any brands/items that you swear by, or are worth the money?!

I haven't actually had to purchase many things myself (thank goodness for hand-me-downs and gifts!) But our favorites are: cloth diapers, Carters and BabyGap clothes, baby wearing devices, SwaddleMe swaddles, a Medela double electric breast pump, and the Arm's Reach mini co-sleeper. 

I've written about cloth diapers before - we use mostly FuzziBunz and prefolds with covers now. I absolutely love prefolds - thanks to a reader who suggested I try them. I get a weird enjoyment in changing the prefolds.

Carters and BabyGap make the cutest baby clothes. Gabe has more clothes than he knows what to do with (I do his laundry every two weeks and his closet is still full), but if I were in the market to buy baby clothes? I'd get Carters and BabyGap. So cute, such quality, and the sizing is accurate.

We have a sling, a wrap, and a backpack-style infant carrier and I love all three. I'm able to cook, clean, and walk with Gabe. It's great!

Gabe was swaddled every night from the day he was born until a few weeks ago. SwaddleMe swaddles worked best for us because of the Velcro - swaddle blankets worked when he was very tiny, as well. Miracle Blankets are okay, but he managed to always bust out. Ninja baby!

Nothing I need to say about the Pump-in-Style except it works fabulously and I love it. (Well, I don't love it, but I tolerate it and it works incredibly well for me.)

Gabe uses this co-sleeper for the first stretch of sleep most every night, and it has been wonderful having him so close to us. If he ends up in bed with me after eating (um, every night), then it provides a nice assurance that he won't fall off the bed.

He also used his swing a lot when he was younger, likes a few toys like this, has an activity gym that he loves, a play mat, and other such baby playthings. We didn't buy any of these until after he was born - it's a trial and error of what works for us and our baby, you know?

What is one thing that surprised you about pregnancy? Most people I talk to always have a story about something nobody had ever "warned" them about!

Um, since these is a family-friendly blog, I can't say what *really* surprised me most about it (email me to ask!), but probably the whole heartburn thing. I was unprepared to have to stop eating by 7pm every night in order to be able to go to sleep without insane amounts of heartburn. I downed tons of Pepcid and even got sick from heartburn one night. Yuck. Oh, and the sleeplessness. OH! The sleeplessness. I slept better with a newborn than I did pregnant. Miserable. Oh, and the whole after-birth healing process. Lots of ouchies I didn't expect.

Did you ever fear you wouldn't love being a mom? My husband and I are going to try to get pregnant soon, and I worry that the sleepless nights, fights, exhaustion, etc. will be too much and I will blame the baby...thoughts?

I definitely didn't approach having a tiny baby with rose-colored glasses; I expected it to be hard, hard, HARD. Much like you, I expected sleep deprivation to be just about the worst EVER. In fact, towards the end of my pregnancy, while most women are complaining about feeling huge and just wanting to be done, I'd tell everyone, "I know having a tiny baby won't be easy, so I'm in no rush!"

I was scared of never having time to myself again. I was scared my relationship with Mike would be more difficult. I was scared I'd be a miserable zombie.

Honestly, though? For me, I had a fairly easy transition to motherhood, aside from the usual stuff at first - pain from birth, figuring out breastfeeding, and fearing that everything possible might be wrong with this tiny little human that you're suddenly responsible for. (And you find yourself Googling questions about a 4-day-old's poop color. Yay for the internet.)

I got in bed at 9 every night, and got out at 9 every morning - figuring that 12 hours in bed with a newborn eating every few hours equaled about eight hours of sleep. I napped a bit, but really sleep hasn't been a problem. I eventually learned to nurse lying down in the dark, and stopped sitting up using the Boppy and changing his diaper at night. It made night feedings much quicker and I hardly wake up. You just figure out what works for you and your family.

Most of the time, I look at Gabe and could never be mad at him. I think the hormones are responsible for that. There are a few times where I'm more of the, "Gabe! Go to sleep! Oh my gosh!" mindset and if I lose my patience, I hand him to Mike. And vice versa. Thank goodness for husbands, am I right?

I was actually most afraid of losing myself when I became a mother - not caring about other things or being able to talk about other things. I really didn't want to alienate non-parents with my incessant parent-talk. Thankfully, that (mostly) hasn't happened.

Good luck! :) It's an awesome, awesome ride. I promise.

What would you do differently in mommyland, now that you've had a few months of experience?

Not worry about what Gabe is or isn't doing, milestone-wise. It doesn't mean he's smart if he's doing it ahead of schedule, and it doesn't mean he's intellectually compromised if he's behind schedule. Not worry so much about how 'they' say not to do, if it makes sense to me. Figure out how to make more friends with babies! And keep in touch better with all my awesome non-baby friends (or convince them to have babies. *cough*KatieandStephen*cough*).

Just wondering if you would recommend any particular book or website that you found helpful during your pregnancy.

I didn't read about my pregnancy as much as I read about birth. Probably more than is normal. My favorites were: The Birth Book by Dr. Sears, Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way, and Birthing from Within (a bit hokey, but good pain-management practices). Mike also read Husband-Coached Childbirth. I know some may roll their eyes, saying you don't need to prepare for childbirth, it just happens and you have no control. That birth plans are silly. That there's no need in overthinking things.

But I cannot say enough about the books I read in preparation for Gabe's birth. I do not exaggerate when I say they changed my life. I became more of an advocate for myself and my child, I started to look more critically at things, and I gained confidence in my abilities.

Aside from the typical Baby Center emails that I poured over each week, I read, and loved, the weekly online pregnancy calendar Zero to Forty, written by the fabulous and hilarious Amalah. 

How much did having Gabe cost, including what your insurance company covered? I have universal health care so am curious!

Prenatal care: $3,831.00, of which we paid $616.93 (midwife care is cheaper than OB care, woo!) (This doesn't include a few extra ultrasounds and non-stress tests that I took before I opted out - with a copay of $40 per weekly test.)

Birth stuff: $10,012.65, of which insurance paid $7,769.85 and we paid $1,072.80. (The remaining $1,170 was billed to insurance...which I assume means they paid it? It's all a bit confusing.) Plus, a $230 hearing test in the hospital, of which we paid $31.40. The hospital bill included $3,200 for labor and delivery, $2,474 for 'room and board' for one night, $29.35 for Motrin I took every 6 hours, $627.00 for 'supplies' like mesh panties for me and diapers for Gabe, and $67.00 for lab work. I had a normal, uncomplicated, unmedicated birth and we left 36 hours after Gabe was born. So, this is pretty much the cheapest hospital births can come!

(We also paid $150 for a 12-week childbirth class and $35 for a breastfeeding class - both great investments!)

Hi there! Thanks for an awesome blog :) I was just curious (and I know you've addressed this before) about how you budgeted etc to plan for Gabe's arrival. Its so confusing knowing where to start and how much baby related things cost!

Hi! Thanks. :) Oh, budgets. Yes, yes. They are important. About a year ago, I wrote a post with lots of details about how we spend (and save!) our money. Anticipating the arrival of Gabe, we were able to save $10,000 last year. A pretty big feat since that's more than a quarter of our combined income. (Whenever I feel poor, I remind myself that the average household income in the US is just above $50,000. So, we're not that far off. Anyway.) We generally tend to live fairly simple, but I also keep track of our spending with Mint and PearBudget. Some months I'm quite vigilant with this, and other months I just keep a lose watch on things.

As far as how much baby things cost, I think it's more about how much you want to spend. I've written before about how we keep things simple (and cheap!) when it comes to Gabe. We've spent less than $200 on things for Gabe. (Not counting maternity clothes. How sad is that?) We are lucky in that my mom watches Gabe for free (only for his first year, next year we have to figure out how we're going to pay for child care...let's not talk about it right now), which is a huge relief on our wallet. Many couples I know are in a financial position to spend hundreds on the nursery, hundreds on a 'travel system,' and hundreds on a crib. We just didn't want to, and were lucky to have family and friends who hooked us up with hundreds of dollars worth of hand-me-downs. Some may shudder at the thought of used baby things, but not us!

Got a question for me? Ask away!

Gabriel's Birth Day, Part III

[Part I]

[Part II]

The third part of my labor (and birth!) with Gabe is the part where I feel like I lost it.

Up until then, I had been dealing with labor. Sure, I had bouts of self-doubt and wanting to give up, but I also chanted "I can do it. I can do it. I can do it!" over and over again after a desperate"I can't do it!" I was The Little Engine That Could, and as silly as it sounds, chanting "I can do it" filled me with confidence and, most of all, determination.

I found myself praying during contractions, too. I wasn't consciously praying, but the words just came out of my mouth: "Oh, God. Help me, God. Be with me, God. Please, God. I need you." I'd cry those words while rocking on the birthing ball, leaning against the bed. I felt desperate, overcome by the power of the contractions, but somehow those words comforted me. Despite the way the contractions literally took over my body, leaving me breathless, I still felt like I was coping with them. (It didn't hurt that my wonderful nurses and midwife would continually tell me how fabulously I was handling the contractions. Never underestimate the power of people believing in you.)

Which all changed around 11:45pm. Sleep-deprived and probably dehydrated from hours of not being able to keep liquids down, my body was worn out. Labor is such an intense task that time seems to move quickly - I was never bored or thinking about how long I'd been in labor (at least 12 hours at this point). I was completely present to this contraction, to this resting period, to Mike's words, to this moment. 

My body started to push at 11:45pm - I realized it only when I started grunting during contractions. Susan, my midwife, checked me and told me that I was almost fully dilated, but part of my cervix wasn't fully dilated (they call it an anterior cervical lip). Which meant she had to keep her fingers way up there and push the lip aside DURING A CONTRACTION. Having someone's fingers pushing on your cervix during a contraction? Probably one of the worst parts of labor. I'm not even kidding.

Even though I was 'losing it' - shouting and grunting and swearing - I never completely lost my cool and started being rude to anyone (except Mike. I told him to shut up once. And tried to bite his arm once.  I wish I was kidding. Sorry, babe.).  When the nurse poked the Doppler against my belly underwater during a contraction, I wanted to say, "Get that thing off me!" and when Susan stuck her hands up my hoo-ha during a contraction, I wanted to say, "Get the hell out of there!" Instead, I said, "That hurts." (Okay, maybe it was more like, "That! Hurts!") See? Labor is bad, but it wasn't so bad that I started kicking and yelling at people.

The pushing stage is a blur. A messy, makes-me-shudder-when-I-think-about-it blur. And not because it was fast. Oh no. Because it was just...painful. And long. Oh, so long. I started pushing around 11:45pm and he was born at 2:16am. That's two-and-a-half hours of yelling, grunting, and puuuuuushing with all my might.  

I'm not sure if it took so long because I started pushing too early or if I was just so worn out that I wasn't putting enough effort into my pushes - but I definitely look at this part of my labor and feel like I did something wrong. I'm okay with that, it was my first time after all. But, I feel like I let everyone down during this - I was doing so well and then...I pushed for. freaking. ever. Susan was looking at the clock, asking Wendi how long I had been pushing. Wendi advocated for me, telling Susan I hadn't had strong pushes until 12:30, so no need to worry. Everyone looked exhausted. I knew they wanted to go bed. Hell, I wanted to go to bed. I wasn't even thinking about the baby at this point, I just kept saying how I couldn't wait to sleep and eat. I was absolutely exhausted and after pushing for an hour-and-a-half - there didn't seem to be an end in sight. I just wanted to know that it would end at some point.

I had long periods of rest in between my pushing contractions - during which I'd drink water (I finally stopped throwing up) and ask them how much longer. They couldn't tell me. I joked with Susan couldn't she just pull the baby out of me? Wendi mentioned something about the morning and I said, "I'll have a baby by morning, right?" Wendi smiled and reassured me that I'd be done with labor by the morning. I was joking, but I did need to think that, at some point, I'd be done. My body wouldn't be experiencing this intense stretching and effort.

During contractions, I pushed with all my might while Susan, Wendi, and Mike encouraged with, "Push push push. Good! Give this one all you've got! Push as hard as you can!" In the back of my mind, I knew that I needed to listen to my body for cues like how long to push. I did it my way for a while, but then tuned into Wendi's voice. Her words were the most helpful in mustering all the strength I had. Still, I felt like I was letting them down. They'd be yelling, "Push as hard as you can!" And once I cried in desperation afterward, "I am. I am trying so hard. I am pushing as hard as I can." A few times, I'd start to hyperventilate while pushing. Susan would remind me to breathe slowly and I'd relax a bit.

It was during this stage that I remember thinking, "Just cut this baby out of me!"  and realizing that if someone suggested a c-section, I would definitely want it just because I'd be done. It would be over. No more pushing without making progress or frustration or feeling like my body was being ripped apart or complete exhaustion. Labor is effing hard work.

I felt like I should be making more progress. I pushed for a LONG TIME before I felt his head move lower into the birthing canal. And then I pushed for a LONG TIME where his head would start to come out during the push and then slide back in at the end of the push. I knew from childbirth class that this was good and normal - my body was just stretching so it could accomodate an entire baby coming out. Mike could look down over my shoulder and see the baby's head poking out - and I reached down and felt it. (Which was slightly reassuring, but also slightly, "What the heck is that thing??" since it felt soft and wrinkly. I didn't expect it feel like that.)

And then, the crowning, aka: the ring of fire. Oh, yes. Since I was completely unmedicated, I got to feel every single sensation of labor - including when the baby's head was crowning and my crotch felt like it was on fire. "It's burning! It hurts!" I yelped. His head stayed there for a while, and I was encouraged. The baby was going to come out. After hours of pushing, there really was a baby and he really was coming! At 1:45am, Wendi called the baby nurse down and told me, "You'll have a baby by 2."

I was elated. I gritted my teeth, narrowed my eyes, bit my lip, and pushed like crazy.  My hair stuck to my forehead, wet from sweat and water. I was focused. I wanted to be DONE. We tried all different kinds of positions during labor. I wanted to try squatting in the tub, but Susan recommended I lean against Mike on my side and brace one leg against the tub. I pulled my other leg up while pushing. I also apparently bit my lips really hard while pushing, because they were swollen for a day.

I swore. A lot. Then I'd apologize. I screamed. Loudly. Then I'd apologize. They reassured me that I didn't need to apologize and even told me I needed to be louder. So I was. Then they looked at each other and closed my door. The yelling actually helped me push harder and blow off steam. And I'll be honest, it was sort of fun and a bit freeing to shout the f-word while pushing. My childbirth classes emphasized being calm and relaxed, so I felt like yelling so loudly was me losing my composure and failing. But when it came time to push? All bets were off. I couldn't not yell.

Wendi measured the baby's heart rate with a Doppler, and Susan looked concerned. She told me we'd have to get out of the tub, because the baby, who had done so well during all of this laboring, had a low heart rate of 90. I looked at her, bewildered, "How am I supposed to get out of the tub?" I had a baby's head sticking out of me. How was I supposed to walk anywhere? I wanted so badly to stay out of the bed. I really didn't want to have anything to do with the hospital bed, aside from when my water was broken and when I was initially hooked up to the fetal monitor. And I desperately didn't want to get out of the water.

I don't even know what she answered, but with the next contraction, I pushed with every ounce of strength in body and suddenly there he was. Our baby was in the water and then I was holding him. I can't even describe how fast it happened - hours of pushing and just seeing a tiny bit of head and then, suddenly, he came out in one push.

Seeing him come out of me, Mike catching him and lifting him up to us...words cannot describe how absolutely miraculous it was.

He cried immediately, and we held him. He wrapped his fingers around mine, and everyone exclaimed how good he looked. How healthy he was. How wonderfully perfect he was.

I looked up at Mike, who had tears in his eyes, and kissed him. "We did it. I can't believe we did it."

I looked down and said, "Well, he is a boy!" I examined his fingers and his toes and his eyes. Those big, shining eyes. So alert. I took all of him in, soaking up the first moments with our son. Cuddling him to myself. Instantly feeling like a mother. Realizing this little body was the one I'd be cuddling with and taking care of for years to come.

I got out of the tub to deliver, uh, everything else and they took him for only a minute or two to do his Apgar scores (9/10! - "almost unheard of," said Wendi). While they were stitching up a few small tears, I held my son. I gazed into his eyes and he gazed into mine.

"You are healthy. I knew you'd be healthy," I told him. After many months of being told that this might be wrong, or that might be wrong - and finally refusing to take part in any more testing because I knew he was healthy and feared the tests more than what they'd reveal - my heart soared. I felt like I fought for him. I was proud of myself for standing up for my baby. 

We spent two hours like this. Just holding my son against me. He easily found my breast and tried to latch on. I cried a little in disbelief at how much my heart soared with love for him.

Around 4:30am, I started to doze off, so I called Wendi back. She weighed and measured Gabe (6 lbs, 13 oz, 19.5 inches) and took him away for his bath. He was gone less than an hour, but I couldn't sleep. I missed him already.

 

I've been writing this for nearly three hours, tearing up at times. Nothing could have prepared my heart for this. Nothing.

Our little family

Gabriel's Birth Day, Part II

[Part I]

We arrived at the midwives' office around 2:30pm, and had to wait several excruciating minutes while the receptionist finished some paperwork before talking to us. Thankfully, one of the nurses saw that I was in labor and rescued me from possibly having to experience a contraction in a waiting room full of people. She took us quietly to a back room where we waited for the midwife on call to come check me.

She came in, saw my face and said, "I think this is the real thing. You have that look." Then she checked my dilation and told me I was 3 or 4 centimeters dilated.

I was happy - 3 or 4 is better than a 1 or 2! I was in labor! Wooo! All this pain wasn't just practice!

She also told me she could break my bag of waters to get things moving faster. I told her no, because I wanted labor to move along at the pace it was supposed to - and I was scared of contractions suddenly worsening. I think my exact words were, "This is all the pain I can handle right now." 

She smiled and told me she'd tell the birthing center I was on my way over.

We walked out to our car, and that's when I stopped caring if I had contractions in front of other people. I had a contraction in the parking lot and had to sit on the back of a delivery truck and lean again Mike to get through it, humming/groaning/moaning loudly. When I was done, I realized a little girl and her dad had just walked by. "Do you think I scared them?" I asked Mike.

We parked our car in the hospital parking lot (which is about 2 feet from the midwives' parking lot)  and made our way over to the hospital, stopping along the way to contract.

I panicked when I realized we'd forgotten to bring copies of our birth plan along to give to the nurses and midwife. Mike reassured me that he had remembered them. The best ever, that man is.

Once there, we waited in triage to be admitted - the nurse asked us questions and told us they were preparing the room with the birthing tub for me. Even in my preoccupied state of mind, I was so happy about two things - one, that the nurse was kind enough to not talk to me during contractions (so many birthing books I read talked about how to deal with nurses that ignore your contractions - I didn't have to worry about that!) and two, that the room with the birthing tub was available. I had feared that since the birthing center only had one room with a tub, I wouldn't get to use it. I also feared that since the center was so small (eight rooms), I might get bumped to the bigger hospital that is known for being a bit too intervention-prone. Happily, I got to be where I wanted.

Room 301. The place to be.

We walked down to our room, which was big, with a bed, several chairs, the birth tub, and a bathroom. They hooked me up to the external fetal monitor to get an initial read and make sure the baby was tolerating the contractions well. He was, which meant I only had to get the monitoring intermittently instead of constantly. I also got a Heparin lock, in case I would need an IV later. It's amazing how little getting a needle in your arm hurts when you're in pain from labor!

Since I wasn't yet dilated five centimeters, I wasn't allowed to labor in the tub - so Mike and I spent an hour (two? I have NO SENSE OF TIME.) laboring on the birthing ball (aka: exercise ball). The nurse and midwife left us alone, which was so nice. It was like we were at home - the lights were dim, the room was quiet, and we just labored and labored. We first tried going for a walk around the hospital, but I didn't get far before needing to throw up - which is not so pleasant to do in front of others.  It was during this time that we called our families to tell them we were in labor. (I hadn't planned on telling my parents until the baby was born - but since we had plans to meet them that night for Mike's birthday, I needed them to know.) Back in our room, I sat on the ball, draping my arms and upper body on the bed. Mike sat behind me and talked me through contractions, rubbing my back and reminding me to relax.

Every contraction, I realized I was tensing my uterus.  I knew I needed to let my stomach relax, because all my reading told me that my uterus would have to work twice as hard if I tensed up. But relaxing through pain is so much easier said than done! I'd relax, and it would hurt way more. I didn't notice any increase in pain in the contractions - each one was just so hard, I'd think, "Well. That was the worst I could handle."

To make the contractions more fun, I was still vomiting if I tried to drink any liquids at all. Throwing up during a contraction? Let me tell you what, it's hard. And this is when Mike really impressed me. Because he'd bring the basin over so I could throw up, then he'd dispose of it and clean out the basin. Multiple times. I offered to clean it out myself, because: eww. But he insisted. What a guy.

After lots of laboring outside of the tub, Susan the midwife checked me again. I was a 6! Hurrah! To the tub!

I got in the gloriously warm water in just a sports bra and labored for a few more hours (or just an hour? again - no sense of time) in there. We had a good coping method down - I'd stick one leg out of the water during a contraction and Mike would press an accupressure point in my foot during the contraction. It made the contraction way better. As in, they were only moderately insanely painful. When I wasn't doing the foot routine, I'd lean again the side of the tub and Mike rubbed my shoulders and back.

These contractions sucked, but being in the water was So Nice. Unfortunately, though, Susan came back to check me and told me I hadn't dilated much further, so I might want to think about getting out of the water for a little while. No one ever told me what I had to do, which was part of the reason I had such a positive birth experience. Instead of feeling like a patient, with medical professionals doing things to me, I felt like I was in control and making the decisions. It was quite empowering. 

Anyhow, I got out of the tub and spent some more time on the birthing ball and walking around the room. I squatted through a few contractions, and before I knew it - I was eight centimeters dilated. Susan asked again about breaking my water, and I told her YES. Because I had been laboring a long time - I'd guess it was around nine or ten at this point? - and my body had naturally made it to eight centimeters, so it wouldn't be as big a shock as if I'd gotten it broken at three centimeters. 

During this time, I started listening to this CD on repeat. It was amazingly relaxing, but if the track after it on my "Labor!" play list came on - the sound of ocean waves - I would lose it and say, "Please. Turn it off! Please!" I couldn't stand the sound of ocean waves for some reason. After listening to the relaxation CD so. many. times. during labor, you'd think I'd get sick of it. Or associate it with pain. However, I still enjoy listening to it - especially when I'm trying to help Gabriel calm down.

Anyhow. Back to labor. She broke the water and I got back in the tub. 

And things got hard, hard, hard for the next few hours.

After my water was broken, Susan and our new labor nurse - Wendi - stayed in the room much of time. Even though the earlier labor was better with just Mike and I, having them around was wonderful. Especially Wendi.  (Who was sweet enough to grab my camera and take photos - even though we didn't ask her to.) They were so helpful and supportive - giving suggestions to Mike about the different positions to try, telling us how wonderfully we were doing, and pouring warm water over my belly during contractions. (Which: OMG. The best feeling ever.) It was an amazing labor support team, and I am SO THANKFUL for each one of them.

But especially my husband. Just look at how intensely he is focusing on me:

The first time I was in the tub, I wanted to be alone. But the second time, having Mike in there with me was wonderful. He would hold me and support me and love me. Wendi and Susan even threw some hospital pillows in the water with us to make it more comfortable.

These contractions were HARD. My body felt like it was ripping apart - and I said to Mike, "I never knew I could be in so much pain and not be dying." It was unbelievable amount of pain. I have no other way to describe it than feeling like my hips and back were being pulled apart.

I imagine this was transition - since I said approximately twelve billion times, "I can't dooo it! I give up! It's too hard!"

To which Wendi replied, "You are doing it! You can do it! You're amazing! You're doing so much better than most first-time moms!"

Later, when Susan and Wendi would tell me what a great job I was doing, I'd argue with them, "I don't feel like I'm doing a great job. If I were doing a great job, I wouldn't be shouting. Or swearing."

One time, I believe I so eloquently said, "I've...never...been so miserable...in my whole effing life!"

In between contractions....

  

...and...during. Ouch.

During this really tough stage, I also said, "I can't believe people voluntarily do this multiple times! It hurts so much!" Susan reassured me it gets easier after the first time.

In between contractions, I was able to joke around a bit, but during - I was focused. Everything around me was blurry and in slow motion. The only thing I could think about was my body. In my periphery, I noticed they were setting up things for the delivery in the room. Was there an end in sight?

Toward the end of this stage, I started grunting and my body would push, even though I wasn't trying to. It was a weird experience. "Why am I pushing??" I asked, bewildered. 

Susan said, "Maybe  because it's time to push?" and got her gloves out to check me...

[Part III]

Gabriel's Birth Day, Part I.

Last picture of me pregnant - picking raspberries on August 29th.

I dreaded coming to work on my due date. I'd already been getting comments about how I should be having my baby or be at home with my baby or WHY HAVEN'T I HAD THAT BABY YET?! I knew it would only hurt my soul to hear the comments on my actual due date.

(My due date according to the midwives was September 1st, but my 20-week ultrasound moved it to August 31st, which is what I stuck with since it's also Mike's birthday.)

I had a meeting after school on Monday, August 30th. The woman who would be subbing for me during my maternity leave came to the meeting. Afterward, we talked about when I thought I'd go into labor. I told her what I kept telling everyone, "I have no idea when I'll go into labor. I don't feel like it will be soon, but who knows?"

She told me, "You have to be a lot more miserable than you are now. You have to be so miserable and uncomfortable that you completely stop fearing labor and just want the baby out."

Little did we know, I'd be in labor less than twelve hours later.

I had a tiny feeling that something might be up, since I'd been having some light cramping all day long - it was different than the Braxton Hicks, it was more like really mild menstrual camps. I dismissed it, not wanting to be too anxious or think too much about it. (All along, I'd habored a secret hope that somehow I'd be one of those women who didn't even realize she was in labor until she was 4 or 5 centimeters dilated. I was so not one of those women. Stupid lucky women.)

We went to bed around eleven that night, and at two, I woke up and just knew. The cramping was still there, as was the need to, ahem, use the bathroom quite often. (Another sign of early labor.) I stayed awake for a little while, trying not to focus on the light contractions, knowing that they'd get worse and I shouldn't waste my energy now. I even took a children's Benadryl in hopes that it would help me get some sleep so I'd have energy. I thought of my mom, who had told me that her hardest labors were the ones that started in the middle of the night, since then she'd have less stamina to labor.

I didn't have much luck sleeping - and around five, I decided to just get up for the day.

The details are fuzzy (as they are for most of labor), I know I started timing my contractions at some point (online, of course. Oh, how I love the internet). They were far apart (seven minutes?), only thirty seconds long, but hurt badly enough that I had to stop what I was doing and breathe through them. I cleaned the kitchen - putting away all the dishes in the dishwasher, wiping the counters, and thinking about how the next time we'd come home, we'd appreciate having a clean kitchen. I'd stop washing dishes during a contraction and just bend over the sink, humming softly. (I still feel a bit cheated that I never got the burst of energetic nesting that some women get. I spent the evening before cooking meals for the week, and the morning cleaning the kitchen - but that's about it. No crazy cleaning sprees for me. Sadly.) 

Around six, I laid back down and Mike woke up a bit. I wished him a happy birthday and told him I was most likely in labor. He got excited and told me to rest if I could.  I couldn't, so I got up and took a bath, finding some relief in the warm water.

I grabbed one of my childbirth books to read in the tub, hoping to take advantage of some last minute studying. I quickly abandoned that idea - just getting through the contractions required my full attention. I sat in the tub with my legs crossed, and laid my head on the edge of the bathtub. It was already harder than I'd imagined - and fleeting moments of fear crossed my mind. If this is hard, how will I keep going? I know it will only get harder.

During all of this, I still though that perhaps it was false labor. I had a hunch it was not, since they were not going away, no matter if I was lying in bed, walking around, or sitting on my giant exercise ball. I hesitated calling work to tell them I wouldn't be in that day, because I was afraid it would turn out not be It. How embarrassing would it be to show up the next after the entire school had been told that I was in labor? I called around 8:30 to tell them, afraid that I'd get hit with a contraction during the conversation and be unable to talk. Thankfully, the contractions held off until just after I hung up.

We watched Friends to pass the time. When I had a contraction, Mike would pause the DVD, because any noise during my contractions distracted and annoyed me. I leaned into Mike, softly groaning during the contractions. At ten, I was hungry, so Mike fixed me the most amazing grilled cheese I'd ever tasted. I drank plenty of Gatorade, hoping to keep myself hydrated.

The rest of the morning was spent taking another bath and walking across the street to the drugstore to get some last minute things (orange juice for post-birth and candy for the nurses). At this point, I was still self-conscious about going through a contraction in public - since I was sort of groaning and leaning on Mike during them. So Mike and I found an empty aisle when I experienced two contractions at the store. During contractions, I was still aware of what was happening around me, but couldn't really be bothered to pay attention to anything but getting through the contraction.

After we left the drugstore, we went for a walk around the block, stopping often for my contractions. I knew that keeping active during labor was the best way to keep it going. During all of this, Mike kept track of the contractions with an app on his iPod. (Again, oh, how I love technology!)  He'd talk me through the contractions, reminding me to breathe deeply and relax myself as much as I could. He did a lot of encouraging, which was so wonderful and helpful. When he said, "I'm so proud of you. You're doing great. I love you," I felt like I could do it.

We got back to our apartment, and that's when the throwing up started. Ugh. I couldn't keep any liquids down from about noon until I went into transition. It was absolutely awful. We called the midwives a bit after noon and the midwife on call told us to come in to their office (which is across the street from the hospital) to be checked.

I did tons of research when I was about eight weeks pregnant to find the best place to give birth in the area (based on what I was looking for) and found a birthing center a hospital that had a midwife practice associated with it. At the time, the hospital 35 minutes from our house, but since moving farther south, it was anywhere from 45-60 minutes from our apartment. I hesitated to stick with my plans to birth at the hospital, since I wasn't sure how difficult traveling that far during labor would be. But, it's mission and philosophy are just so fabulous, I couldn't bring myself to go to a closer hospital. (Spoiler: turned out to be a very good decision!)

What did I love about the birthing center at this particular hospital? They offer only rooming-in, they have lactation consultants on staff that visit every patient every day, they offer a free follow-up appointment with a lactation consultant, they are a baby-friendly hospital (their nurses are all labor and baby nurses), they have a lower c-section rate, they have a birthing tub for water birth, and they support natural childbirth. Plus, it's small - only eight rooms! I seriously have such warm fuzzy feelings about the hospital. So friendly and cozy. Mmm.

But, I'm getting off track. More about that later.

We got ready for our drive - Mike had already loaded up the car with our things, so he helped me out to the car. Thankfully, no one else was in the elevator or lobby. I kept telling Mike how terrified I was of having contractions in the car. I was sitting, standing, lying down, and walking around at home - dealing with contractions while strapped into a moving vehicle scared me. Let alone the idea of getting sick in the car. (I have a life-long fear of throwing up in the car. I'm not sure why. But I am happy to say that it still remains an unexperienced fear.)

The ride to the hospital was much easier than I anticipated. It was quick, since it was midday, and the contractions were tough, but still manageable. Mike felt terrible not being able to support me through them, though. We got to the midwives' office just before 2:30pm. I told myself I'd only be disappointed if I was less than three centimeters dilated. In fact, I also told Mike that this kid would be an only child if this wasn't the real thing. Because, it hurt. A lot.

Mike told me he thought maybe I was in transition. I hoped so, because that would mean I'd managed to get through much of labor already. However, I didn't get my hopes up. I mentally braced myself for many more hours of labor...

[Part II]

The Waiting Game.

My pregnancy according to Photo Booth. 

Today marks my 39th week of pregnancy. Which makes my due date exactly one week away.

How am I feeling?

I am excited, but I am actually in no rush to have this baby. I hear labor sort of hurts, so why wish  that upon myself? Plus, I'd like to be able to celebrate Mike's birthday next Tuesday. I have a feeling this baby won't arrive until at least a few days after my due date, anyway. I'm not sure if you can really anticipate when your baby will come, which is sort of awesome, if you ask me. Going into labor is one of the remaining mysteries of life, and I'm surprised to find myself embracing the mystery. When I first went to the midwife at eight weeks pregnant, I was given a due date based on the embryo's size, but even then - it's perfectly normal and healthy for a baby to be born two weeks on either side of your due date. And your doctor can check your dilation and guess when you might go into labor - but you can be dilated a centimeter or two and not go into labor for a week.

Quite a few women have said to me, "I'm praying you don't go a day past your due date!" or "Hope for your sake you go into labor tonight!" I try to tell them I'm doing okay, really. Being pregnant isn't so bad. And I know my baby will be here eventually. Why are you people trying to make me impatient and whiny?

To be honest, I am mostly anxious to stop working. My long commute is sort of killing me - I don't sleep well all night, then have to wake up before dawn to drive an hour to work. Once I get to work, all is well - I am surrounded by wonderful people who care about me so much. I'm constantly being complimented and fussed over, and everyone seems to be bubbling over with excitement and happiness for me.  I'm also blessed in that I really enjoy what I do. Though, being at home all day, cleaning and cooking and and sewing and getting ready sure does sound more appealing than sitting down for hooouuurs on ennnnnd and planning for projects that are happening while I'll be gone.

Not to mention the constant (well-meaning) comments I get at work, like "You're still here?!", "I thought you'd be home with your baby by now!", "No baby yet?!", or "What are you doing here?!"

I am totally at peace with the idea of going a week or more past my due date (especially if it didn't include the whole having-to-go-work bit), but these comments make me want to have the baby just so I don't have to face them every day.

Waiting is just part of the whole baby deal. And so, I wait. Without really having to wait. Keeping myself busy with work, design work, baking muffins, and spending time with my wonderful husband.

Thirty-Seven & Thirty-Eight.

[Welcome to the Whinier Edition]

How far along? 38 weeks.

How big is baby? Oh, who the heck knows? Possibly over six pounds and over nineteen inches long. I’ll find out soon enough.

Total weight gain: +26 lbs. (Seeing the scale tell me I weigh so much surprisingly doesn’t make me feel disappointed or frustrated – feelings I feel normally when my weight goes up even a few pounds. I am embracing it, knowing the numbers will soon stop creeping up.)

Maternity Clothes? I am fairly certain I’ll never want to wear these clothes again. Most of them are stained or pilling from washing them constantly since I have so few clothes I can wear. I feel like a slob. And I am stuck wearing my Tevas all the time, because all my other shoes are either too tight (I swear my feet don’t look that swollen – but apparently my feet are fat now) or not cushioned enough (hello, cute Target sandals). I am the picture of professionalism at work, let me tell you what.

Stretch marks? Still none on the belleh. Perhaps I have very elastic skin?

Sleep: A night in the life of Ashley, the Very Pregnant Woman:

10:30pm- get in bed, play Words with Friends with Mike and read

11:15pm- fall asleep

12am – get up to pee, fall back asleep

3am – get up to pee, can’t fall back asleep

3:45am – still can’t sleep. Am starving. Attempt to eat some ClifBar without making a ton of noise and waking Mike up. Think about how hard it will be when Mike is in school when the baby first comes home. I’ll have to wake up and feed the baby quietly so as not to wake him up, since he’ll not be able to nap during the day. Worry about how that will work. Think about getting a night light. Wonder where we’d plug it in…

4:45am – decide to get up and eat some cereal while checking my email and Twitter. Eat two bowls of cereal. Marvel at my ability to eat so much all the time.

5:45am – pee, then go back to bed, fall asleep. (Praise God!!!!!!!!!!!)

9:35am – wake up and practically hug myself when I realize I was able to fall back asleep

(This was a weekend night – I have to leave for work by 7am during the week, which isn’t so forgiving with insomnia.)

Movement: I am fairly certain this child has BRUSIED MY RIBS with his kicking. I am not even kidding. My right ribs hurt with a stabbing pain when I breathe deeply or when I stretch or move my arms or laugh. Some extensive Googling found that it isn’t uncommon for women, especially petite ones, to experience the joy that is bruised ribs during the end of pregnancy. And the only cure is delivery. Awesome.

Food cravings: Cereal. Always with the cereal. Tater tots and potatoes in general also sound fabulous – I made these last week and just, yes. Make them. I am fully taking advantage of my desire to eat everything for these last few weeks. Amen. (Even though I am sort of loathing how flabby my arms look when I see at the pictures from my shower.)

What I miss: My body is no longer my own. I have no control over when I sleep or don’t, my bones are creaky, and my brain can’t stop. During a bout of insomnia the other night, I had an image of myself being a puppet and my tiny little baby controlling my body from inside of me. It was creepy, especially because the baby was wearing a top hat and cackling with evil laughter in my awake-insomniac-nightmare. (Basically, I miss being not crazy.)

What I am looking forward to: Maternity leaaaaave. No, I don’t get much paid time off (I am using all my sick days and am quite bitter about the whole situation), but I am at the point where I am mentally checked out at work and can’t wait to not have to get dressed for work or commute or pack my lunch or think about anything other than my baby for a few months. Sigh. Sweet little baby.

Milestones: We created and shared our birth plan with our midwife – and she completely confirmed our decision to give birth at the hospital birthing center we chose. With all the other feelings I’m experiencing as my due date approaches, feeling secure and confident in where we’ve chosen to give birth is wonderful. We also got a baby book that we love. It’s cute and clever and perfect for us. I’ve had two baby showers given by my family – which means my baby now has 60 onsies for his first six months of life. It’s actually really touching to look around our apartment and see how generous our family and friends are. We have probably spent less than $200 on things for the baby – and have very little left that we truly need for him.* We are so blessed!

*(This doesn’t keep be from waking up in the middle of the night worrying about what we still need and how we are going to buy it, of course. I am anxious and pregnant, after all.)

Say What?:

"I want to watch you walk from behind and see if you're waddling."

"Looks like you're going to have a nice, healthy baby there. You're big!"

“Oh, I bet he’s just kicking the slats out of you now.”

“You’re still here?!”

“Oh, hi. Just checking to see if you’re still here.”

“You’re due in two weeks and you’re still working? That’s dedication!”

I am still here, friends. And the next time someone asks me, “So, does the doctor say anything? Is he going to be early? Late?” I’ll respond, “She said he’s going to just stay in there forever.”

Oh, and THIS: My 3-week-old cousin. Seeing this face makes me so excited to meet our little one.
All this pregnancy stuff really isn't so bad since it ends with:

Dear Baby...

Dear Baby,

This week marks the week that I am “full term,” which means you could come any day now and we shouldn’t be surprised. It also means you could wait a whole month to come out, if you’re cozy in there.

We are so excited to meet you. I am excited to look into your eyes for the first time, to hold your little body, to feel your warm breath. I imagine meeting you will be like meeting someone I already know. Impossibly true. You are a part of me and a part of my best friend – how could I know already know you?

We’ll try to be the best parents we can be – making decisions as best we can to help you become a happy, healthy boy. We’ll protect you from harm and teach you to care for others. I hope you’ll be like your dad in that way – so many men feel they need to be ‘tough’ or ‘macho,’ and don’t feel comfortable being sensitive or compassionate. You can be caring, sweet, and loving and still be a very strong man. You’re lucky to have such a great role model in your dad.

No matter what your talents are, we will love you. Whether you’re fabulous at sports or music or school or burping, we’ll be proud. (But I sort of hope it’s not the burping thing.) I hope you know you don’t have to be the most popular or the strongest or cutest to be valuable to us. (Though you definitely will be the cutest. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your mom.) We'll love you for who you are.

I can’t believe it’s almost time to meet you. To be honest, I don’t feel quite ready to be a parent, to take care of an infant 24/7, to have such a Big Responsibility. But I know that once you arrive, it will all click into place. That we will experience such overwhelming love for you that losing sleep and worrying too much and complete exhaustion will be little sacrifice for your mere presence.

I hope that you’ll trust me. I hope that you’ll talk to me and tell me about your days, even as you get older. (Seriously. Be an awesome teenage boy that talks to your mom. Please?) I hope that you know how much we love you, no matter what. I hope you dream big and know you are capable of doing whatever your heart desires. I hope you are confident in yourself and know how wonderful you are.

Your dad and I talk about you all the time. We imagine you laying on the floor while we play Scrabble, we imagine you sleeping in your co-sleeper when we go to bed, we imagine giving your little body a bath. We talk about what kind of parents we want to be, because we already love you so much we want to be the best parents we possibly can. We talk about what our days will be like once you arrive, and how we'll manage to still visit a coffee shop with an infant. (We hope you'll be a sweet, calm little boy and take lots of naps. But the insane amount of head-butting, kicking, and crazy dancing you're doing right now makes me worry you'll be a wild little baby.)

Your dad talks to you all the time. He tells you how much he loves you and he asks you to kindly stop chopping up my insides. I think you know it's him, because you stop moving and just listen to his voice. I wonder if his voice calms you down. You'll really like your dad - he's the fun one. He'll play you songs on his guitar and read stories to you in the voices of the characters. He'll make you laugh and take you to games. He wants to be a good dad. You're a lucky boy.

We love you so much, baby boy. We'll see you soon!

Love,
Mama Bear

[First letter found here.]

To Myself in Six Months.

Dear Ashley,

I am so curious what your life is like with a baby. I can imagine – you are probably exhausted and overwhelmed but so happy. But really, I have no idea. I am not writing to you to muse over what life with a baby is like, I’m writing to you to remind you who you were pre-baby, pre-mother. Undoubtedly, there is much I don’t yet understand and cannot fathom about motherhood, but I do know a few things I want to help you keep in perspective.

Spend time with Mike. That man you married? That man who is the father of your beautiful baby? He’s pretty fantastic. Don’t forget to appreciate him daily, to let him know how much he means to you. I know you can’t afford to get a babysitter once a week (or even once a month, let’s be honest) – but make sure and spend as much time as you can with Mike. And talking about the baby’s pooping and sleeping habits? Doesn’t quite count as quality time with your husband. Snuggle with him after the baby goes to bed, the dishes can wait. I promise.

Don’t worry so much. If I know you, and I think I do, you worry about whether the baby is growing at the right rate, whether he’s sleeping enough, whether he’s eating enough, whether he’s getting enough tummy time, if he’s too hot, if he- JUST STOP. Enjoy your baby, don’t spend these precious early months overanalyzing and over thinking your every move. Trust yourself. You are a good mom.

Talk about things other than your baby. When I was in college, I remember writing in my journal that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have children, because it seemed that my family members who did immediately forgot about everyone else in the world (I was obviously a bit hurt). I know priorities are rearranged and your baby is Super Important – but don’t forget that your family and friends are still around. Figure out which friends and family are happy to discuss cloth diapers, sleep schedules, and parenthood – and which ones want to stab their eye with a fork when you do so. And don’t forget – you are more than just a mom.

Learn about things other than your baby. Keep listening to podcasts, reading books and blogs about current events and social issues, and generally just caring about what is going on in the world. I expect having a baby didn’t completely remove your desire to learn and grow. Pick up a novel if you’ve read three parenting books in a row. Your brain will thank you.

Record it all, but don’t spend so much time capturing that you forget to experience it. Everyone tells you how fast this time flies by, and recording it (even when you’re tired) can help you remember it. Blogging and photographing are fabulous, but don’t let them take precedence over spending time with your baby.

Spend time with you. Go get a cup of coffee. Go for a walk (or run! You can run now!). Read a book in the sunshine. Journal. Pray. Write. Call a friend. Take a bath. Go out to dinner. Don’t lose yourself.

All my love,

You.

PS: Moms, do you have anything to add?

Thirty-Five & Thirty-Six.

 Taken at 35 weeks, 6 days.

[Welcome to the Whiny Edition]

How far along? 36 weeks

How big is baby? Almost six pounds and over eighteen inches long.

Total weight gain: +23 lbs.

Maternity Clothes? Am so tired of them. And my clothes selection is dwindling as my stomach grows. So, unless I feel comfortable baring my rounded midriff, I’m stuck with about three different outfits. I've realized that being pregnant during the summer has its perks though - I can get away with just tank tops, t-shirts, skirts and flip flops without anyone batting an eye.

Stretch marks? Same old, same old. None on my belly. Though I do have some pretty impressive veins on my belly.

Sleep: What’s that again? I probably shouldn't complain since I'll apparently be sleeping EVEN LESS once the baby is actually born. Hold me. (Or come over and help me.)

Movement: Ouch. It almost seems like my uterus isn’t big enough for all this baby wiggling around inside of me. He is firmly head down, with spine always along the left side of my stomach and his feet jabbing the right side. Sometimes I even feel his little hands moving down by his face, which sort of tickles. He's starting to displace amniotic fluid as grows, which means I can feel more movement. It can actually get bothersome and even painful, but when Mike talks to him, he usually calms down. I'm hoping his baby whispering skills work outside of the womb as well.

Food cravings: All food equals heartburn. Breathing equals heartburn. Drinking water equals heartburn.  Food just isn't as enjoyable as it was earlier in pregnancy! Things I love lately include: s'mores, squash and zucchini, these muffins, drinkable yogurt, and watermelon. Of course.

What I miss: When my belly was cute and little and manageable, instead of scary and big. My stomach may not look huge, but when you compare it to when I thought it had "popped"…

Thirteen weeks. Thirty-six weeks. BAM.

...you can understand why my body is feeling the strain. (And let's not talk about the obvious growth of my butt and thighs.) Even at twenty weeks, I looked incredibly smaller. I shudder to think of my poor body growing and stretching for FOUR MORE WEEKS. (Or even longer if I got past-term!) I see girls due two months after me whose bellies are the same size, so I feel like I shouldn't complain about my body feeling strained. But I think it's because I have the body of a 12-year-old am so petite.

What I am looking forward to: Becoming full-term next week. Feeling ready to give birth and be a mom. Not feeling like a whiner. I hate feeling like a whiner. And, I'll say it again - being small enough to hug my husband tightly. He is still attracted to me (somehow!), but I can't wait until I am less large.

Milestones: I’ve enjoyed a fairly active pregnancy – I ran and even did Jillian’s 30 Day Shred a few times during my first and (part of my) second trimesters. I’ve done tons of yoga, walked several times a week, and went on lots of bike rides. The idea of facing the most athletic event of my life (hello, labor) after sitting on my butt for nine months terrified me, so I wanted to try and stay in some sort of shape. I also realized that inactivity actually caused me more back and hip pain, which was a huge motivation. However, I have reached the stage where the prenatal yoga that was previously laughably easy is now a bit challenging. I even get short of breath walking down stairs. My body has officially had enough. I feel like a creaky old woman. I also saw a chiropractor for the first time due to creaky old woman-ness. The jury is out on whether a) I can afford to go regularly, and b) it helps significantly.

Say What?:

“When is the blessed event taking place?”

“The end of August”

“You know what you should name him-it IS a him, right? I could tell because boys are usually carried low like that. Well, you should name him Maurico after me. My name is Maurice, and the Spanish version is Maurico.” - random guy on the street

“You gonna name him after me? The maintenance man!”

“I would have bet 100 to 1 it was a boy. You look like an athletic kinda girl; a little macho.” - random guy on the street #2.

"I just LOVE babies. I love puppies, too." - my almost-five-year-old cousin (who shares a birthday with Mike and my due date).

Trying to help him understand how difficult it is to bend over and pick something up when you have a big belly. Seeing him try to touch his toes was the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

Oh, and THIS: I pee a thousand times a day. Apparently the baby’s head is pretty far down, which is part of the reason some people say I look small. And part of the reason I pee constantly. And part of the reason my pelvis and hips belong to an 80-year-old woman.

FAQ about Our Little Baby.

Lots of questions are asked about my pregnancy and the baby, and since I didn't blog about being pregnant until the end of my first trimester, there are lots of things readers (and friends and family and strangers) may wonder about my pregnancy. 

Like Erin did a few weeks ago, I am here to answer your questions...

When did you find out?

December 23, 2009.  My period was several days late (I am usually like clockwork. TMI), and I couldn't stand not knowing immediately if it was what I thought. So during a last minute Christmas shopping trip with my sisters, I bought my first three-pack of pregnancy tests. It was hard to hide them, as I didn't want to raise suspicions - but I told my youngest sister, "It's always good to have these on hand when you're a married woman." I thought she fell for it, but apparently she was highly suspicious after that. Ah, well.

How did you tell Mike?

We had talked about it - since I had a really strong sense I was pregnant - but he urged me to wait a few days to take a pregnancy test. I obviously couldn't resist, so I when I found out, I ran out to the garage where he was spray painting his bicycle and squealed, "I'm pregnant!" We hugged in the cold doorway, then he shooed me back inside, saying "Well, you probably shouldn't be out here since I'm spray painting!"

How did you tell your parents?

Since we found out over Christmas, we were with my family for a week, then with Mike's family for a week - right after finding out this life-changing news. Although you'd expect this to be excruciatingly difficult, it was actually perfect, since we needed some time to absorb this huge surprise.

I was very, very worried about having a miscarriage, so I didn't want to tell anyone at all until I was at least ten weeks pregnant. Including my parents. When we finally did tell them, at the end of January - check out the story here.

Why are you seeing a midwife? Is it because you’re a hippie? Do you want to give birth at home?

For a number of reasons, mostly because midwives tend to treat pregnancy like a normal occurrence, not like a disease to be treated. There are lower c-section rates among midwives and women who see midwives report more satisfying birth experiences. Most of all, it's because of this film, which I seriously recommend to any woman who thinks she might someday want to get pregnant. 

Most European women see midwives, but it's just not as common here in the States, so I get lots of questions about the validity of having a midwife attend my birth. Midwives deliver in hospitals as well, which is where I plan to give birth. (A very awesome hospital birthing center that claims to be more 'high touch' than 'high tech' and has things like birthing balls and aromatherapy.)

Did you get morning sickness?

I was really queasy for a few weeks, but like most bad things - I tend to forget how bad it really was. (This bodes well for childbirth and having future children, I hope.) I was nauseous in the evening for a few weeks, then for a few weeks I'd throw up if I didn't eat ASAP OMG OR ELSE! I really only got sick a few times, including once in our kitchen trash can while Mike's parents were visiting and using the bathroom (and we hadn't told them yet...)

I do remember spending a Saturday afternoon in January curled in a ball on the floor, absolutely miserable. Mike was watching something on Hulu and I saw a commercial with a guy eating chips and salsa. Instantly, I knew that was the one thing in the world that would make me feel better. It had to be chunky, mild salsa and really thin white tortilla chips. Mike ran out to the store and made a very happy girl. I felt great for the rest of the day. 

Do you have names picked out?

We have them *sort of* narrowed down to ten names, but we each have a favorite. Though I often doubt my favorite, and secretly plan to add another name to The List when Mike’s not looking. We have the list saved on Mike’s iPod Touch and plan to bring it to the hospital with us. When we hold our baby, we will know. Or, that’s how I’m hoping it will work. The whole naming process has been a bit more stressful than I anticipated – naming another human being is a Big Deal, and it’s a difficult decision to make with another person. For example, when Mike vetoed Henry because “it’s a dog name,” my heart was crushed. (I am over it.)

Are you feeling the baby move?         

Ha. Hahaha. Hahahaha! This question amuses me because I just want to yell, “Are you kidding me? This kid has not stopped punching me for the past 15 weeks!” Instead, I politely nod and muse, “Mmm-hmm. It’s so neat!” while getting stabbed in the rib by a heel. 

What's it like to feel a baby move inside of you?

You know those massage chairs that kneed your back? Imagine that, but from the inside. I will have some verrrry relaxed abdominal muscles from the little masseuse in there.

Where are you registered? 

Feel free to check them out and laugh at what I think I need for a baby. I registered at Babies R Us, Amazon, which is actually mostly Mike’s picks – Grateful Dead onsies and toys, and Target, which is mostly just for the 10% off registry completion we’ll get – we actually didn’t tell any of the showers about registering there. Sneaky, right?

Will your baby be a vegetarian?

Yep. Especially when I’m feeding him. We certainly aren’t going to demonize meat, but we’re not going to feed the kid hot dogs and chicken nuggets (which, let’s be honest, is the most common kind of meat kids eat). For Mike and I, it makes sense to feed our child what we eat – he’ll hopefully be a more adventurous and healthy eater because of it. If he wants to eat meat someday, that’s cool – but we’re not going to buy it.

Have you decided if you’re going back to work?

I don’t have much of a choice since my husband is in graduate school, but yes, I’ll be going back to work. How much I work depends on how poor we can handle being.

Do you want free baby hand-me-down stuff?

Oh, heck yes. Thank you so much.

What is your nursery theme?

See above: Free hand-me-downs. Booyah.

Any more questions? Ask me the comments and I'll answer!

Thirty-Three & Thirty-Four.

Photo taken 33 weeks, 4 days. 

How far along? 34 weeks, 3 days.

How big is baby? 4.75 lbs, almost 18 inches long. We were grocery shopping and I put two two-pound bags of sugar in Mike's hand and said, "OUR BABY WEIGHS MORE THAN THIS." Mike said that's why he's been working out so much lately.

Total weight gain: +22 lbs. I haven't started waddling when I walk, I can still shave my legs and paint my toenails, and I tie my shoes easily. However - my pregnant thighs in the summer heat means they rub together like  WOAH. I have to plan my skirt-wearing according to how much I expect to sweat. It's hot.

Maternity Clothes? 80% of what I wear isn't officially maternity. 80% of what I wear shouldn't be worn out in public. See: video blog from yesterday.

Stretch marks? Stop rubbing it in. YES, OKAY? (But still not on my stomach. Or maybe I just can't see them because my stomach is so big.)

Sleep: A nap a day seems to work better than actually expecting to sleep well during the night. The amount of times I get up to go to the bathroom is a little out of control. I mean, really, body.

Movement: We had a great moment two weeks ago when my friend's husband was forced to feel the baby move. He apparently is afraid of touching pregnant bellies, but Mike literally dragged him over to my stomach and put his hand on my belly. You should have seen his face. It was priceless. Mike continues to be subject to my whining about how much the baby is jabbing my insides, and sometimes gets freaked out by just how well you can feel the baby's heel, spine, butt, and so on because my skin seems super thin.

Food cravings: I didn't blog about my pregnancy during my first trimester, but I had a pretty strong aversion to lettuce. As in, I had to take my purse and put it in another office because I was convinced it smelled like lettuce. It was bad. It's weird - because I used to love salad. I still don't really like it, but I'll bribe myself to eat some with a baked potato. I'm st obsessed with all fruit and I have a bowl of cereal every single night (Hey, it's my ice cream. And probably a bit healthier.) Out of nowhere, I had a craving for these cupcake-ice cream cones that I used to bring to school on my birthday when I was little. I made them with my 5-year-old niece, and HOLY YUM. They totally lived up to my memories.

What I miss: Sleeping on my stomach, less hormonally-induced mood swings, and hugging my husband really tightly. In some ways, it's sort of sweet that our baby is between us when we hug, but mostly, I just want to be a normal person without a twenty-two pound bowling ball on my stomach.

What I am looking forward to: Sitting on Mike's lap without crushing him. Getting up off the floor  without grunting and panting. Also, not having heartburn. I get it pretty much anytime I eat now, instead of only if I eat before bed. I take some Pepcid if I can't sleep because of heartburn, but during the day, it's just obnoxious.

Milestones: Babies born after 34 weeks have no long-term problems. Holla! Although I'm fairly certain (and happy!) that I won't be going into labor anytime soon.

Say What?:

I went to a family reunion, where most of them hadn't seen me pregnant. Here's what they had to say:

"You're so skinny and then BAM! That stomach!"

"You look just like your mom when she was pregnant." - Really? Because I so do not. 

"It's like you've just got a soccer ball stuffed under your shirt!"

"You look like you're four months along!" - I've heard talk of pregnant girls who get annoyed when people make comments about their size. But, in my opinion, as long as they're saying things like this and not things like, "You look huge! You're going to pop!" I am a happy girl. Being told I look small when I feel pretty gigantic is absolutely wonderful.

"I don't mean to be rude, but how far along are you?" - Man outside of McDonalds. For some reason, I think it's absolutely adorable when men ask questions about pregnancy. It always makes me happy. I assured him that he wasn't being rude at all. (And my niece who was with me asked, "Who is that man?" I told her that people like to talk to you when you're pregnant. Heh.)

Taken at 33 weeks, 6 days.  In the bathroom at Chuck E Cheese. So very classy. 

Oh, and THIS: You will never hear me say that nine months have gone by way too fast, or wishing away the rest of my pregnancy. When I hear girls who are newly pregnant mourn the fact that they have nine! whole! months! to wait, I cannot sympathize. I'd like MORE time, not less! There is so much to figure out and get in place and, also, this. Plus! Sure, I am a bit uncomfortable now, but it's not like when I'm done being pregnant I'll get to sleep lots and be all comfortable. I'll be figuring out how to take care of a teeny tiny human being. With a husband that has just started a PhD program.  And a drastically reduced income. Hold me.