Requests From a Mommy Who's Ready to Pop

In a similar vein to my post the other day regarding pregnancy and hot summers, I thought I would share with you a few personal pregnancy pet peeves, just because.  And if you have done this/said this to me, don't sweat it.  Chances are pretty good it didn't bother me that much unless you were the third person in the span of a week to do it (see item #1)...and then, that's not really your fault.  Even if it does bug me at the time.

So, in no particular order....

• Do not comment on my size.  Just don't.  If you remark on how big I've gotten, I feel like a cow.  If you remark on how small I am, I worry that my baby isn't growing properly and oh my gosh there must be something wrong, after all, it happened to my best friend's sister's cousin, so it's surely going to happen to me, too!  The only appropriate comment regarding a pregnant woman's appearance is, "You look great!"

• If you have told me something in the past, and I ask you about it again, please do not point out that you already told me, or if you must point it out, please do so gently.  My brain doesn't work the way it's supposed to right now, and adding in, "I told you this last week when you asked me about it," just makes me feel stupid.

• If I comment that something hurts, please don't ignore that I've said it.  While it may seem redundant to you, it is at the forefront of my thoughts 90% of the day.  "I'm sorry," is good enough, but please act like you care.  Believe it or not, it does make me feel better to have my discomfort acknowledged.  If I didn't want to actually talk about it, I wouldn't have brought it up.

• If you are a prominent maternity clothing store, do not sell me clothing that is guaranteed to shrink if I launder it according to the instructions on the tag.  Seriously?  Have you not NOTICED that your main clients are pregnant women?

• If you are a salesperson in said maternity clothing store, do not try to convince me that laundering the clothing according to the tag will not cause it to shrink.  This is my third baby.  I have been buying clothing from your store for longer than you have been in the workforce.  I KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!

• Please don't be condescending or discouraging about my decision to labor without pain medications.  I know it won't get me any gold medals.  If I wanted a gold medal, I'd train to be in the Olympics.  I just want to go through labor without any unnecessary wires, tubes, pokes, or cuts and without putting unneeded medications into my and (therefore) my baby's body.

• If I'm headed to the bathroom, * please don't get in my way or stop me to talk as I pass your office/cubicle/desk.  Since every movement hurts these days, chances are pretty good that I've waited until the last possible moment, and now I am about to pop.  Please wait until I come back through, and then I'll be happy to have a conversation with you.  Especially if you offer me a comfortable place to sit.  Or chocolate.  And if it's both, I may never leave again.

* If you are wondering how to recognize that I am heading to the bathroom, recall that every step is painful for me, so if I'm up and walking, it's bound to be for a good reason.  If there is a bathroom in the direction I am headed, assume that that's my destination.  After all, I am pregnant, which means there is a 4-lb baby sitting on my bladder and using it as a punching bag.  Trust me, I am headed for the bathroom.

If, by chance, you have done one of the things on this list, or you think I might be pointedly referring to you, I'm not.  Trust me.  (Unless you are a prominent maternity clothing store.  Then, yes, I do probably mean you.)  Some of these are even hypothetical and haven't actually happened.  But if you did do this, and it bothered me, just remember, everything bothers me these days.  It probably took me about five minutes to get over it, anyway.

Maybe "They" Were Right

If you've ever been pregnant, you know who "they" are.  "They" are those people with two eyes that work, a mouth that works, and a brain that doesn't.

Or, at least, their brains never quite seem to work when they're around a pregnant woman.

I'm talking about the ones who find out you're pregnant "again" and can't help questioning whether you really know how that happens.

The ones who take one look at you and ask you if you're sure it's not twins, even though you're well past the point where someone would have noticed if it were.

The ones who feel the need to point out that it's two days past your due date and you're still pregnant.

The ones who have to let you know how glad they are they're not you when they find out you're due somewhere between July and September, because you're going to be so miserable being pregnant in the hottest part of the summer.

(These same people, incidentally, also always seem to feel the need to say, "Well, at least you won't be really big during the hottest part of the summer," if you're due at any other time of the year.)

With the first, I just smile and nod.  Yes, we will have three children 3.5 and younger.  Yes, we know how that happens.  In fact, we meant for it to happen that way.  Yes, we might very well be insane.  But we're happy, too, so it works out in the end.  And if it doesn't, well, that's going to be my problem, isn't it?

I haven't had to deal with #2 and #3.  (In fact, I've gotten the opposite of #2, which just makes me feel a little like I might not be eating enough for my baby to grow properly.  Thanks.  Like I wasn't already neurotic.)  For item #3, I was induced before my due date with both of my (sweet) little toddler terrors, so I never had to deal with going past.  (For reasons mentioned in this post, I might be dealing with it this time, though.)

With #4, I, again, smile and nod, although I tend to roll my eyes a bit.  I mean, come on.  Hot is hot.  If it's hot out, I'm going to be miserable, regardless of whether or not I'm pregnant.  Being pregnant isn't going to make it worse.

Right?  Of course.

But...then again.

It has been hot lately.  We're talking 90+ degree weather and 70+ percent humidity.  Miserable no matter how you look at it...but.  I've noticed a few things.

For one, if I spend about five minutes out in the sun, I become useless.  My temper frays, I sweat all over, my brain starts to overheat, and somewhere, a "check engine" light comes on.

For another, by the end of the day, my feet resemble the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man as they try to ooze out of the tops of my shoes.  It is neither pretty nor pleasant.  For anyone.

And finally, I've actually found myself wanting to wear dresses and sandals.  Dresses and sandals.  Me.  (Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder where I went.  And then I realize The Belly was just in my way, and I was right there behind it all along.)

So I've been wondering...were they right?  Is it really harder to deal with the heat and humidity when you're massively pregnant?  Or is it just that I can't handle much of anything right now that doesn't involve air conditioning, a cushy couch, and an ottoman?

I've been firmly convinced for so long that it doesn't matter whether you're pregnant or not, hot is hot and miserable is miserable, that it's difficult for me to even entertain the idea that it actually might make a difference.  But...I'm really starting to think that it does.

Does this mean I have to eat crow? (*)

If so, I'd better wait until after the Bumblebee is born, since it's probably on the list of Foods To Avoid During Pregnancy.  Or if it's not, it should be.

* Please excuse the wikipedia link, but I wanted to put that there since it's a fairly obscure saying now, and I didn't want anyone to think I was actually considering eating a crow.  That's just gross.

Au Naturel

I haven't posted about the Baby Bee in a while (or about anything, for that matter, but that's beside the point), so while I sit here waiting and dreading a couple of approaching thunderstorms, I'll see if I can organize my thoughts enough to say a few things.

First, about the baby.  Not much to say there...everything is normal, as far as anyone can tell.  I am just past 35 weeks, so only a little bit longer to go.  (For those who aren't used to counting pregnancies in weeks, I'm expecting her to be born between 39 and 41 weeks, so I have another 4-6 weeks to go.)

An aside.  Does anyone else still think of six weeks as a "grading period?"  A throwback to elementary school days.  We got our report cards every six weeks, and to this day, when I think of six weeks, I think of it as a "grading period."

But really, it's about a month-and-a-half, so that's what I've been telling people who ask me how much longer I have.

After doing quite a bit of research, I've decided I would like to have an unmedicated delivery.

What?  Really?  Me?

Yup.

Anyone who knows me will know that this is a surprise.  I've never been much of one for pain, and I've always been of the "if there's a good way to avoid it, then why the heck not?" mindset.

So how did I come to this startling decision?

It started out with a single motive:  to reduce my risk of a c-section.  No, I have never had one, and odds are, I'm a pretty good candidate for not having one in a future delivery.  But, every labor is different, and realistically speaking, it could still happen.  Since we are planning to have another little bundle within the next two years or so, God willing, a c-section with this one most likely would mean a repeat c-section with my fourth.

And scheduled c-sections don't make good stories.

At least, you hope they don't.  If they do, then it's probably not a good story, or at least not a pleasant one.

But if all goes well, and Mommy and Baby are healthy at the end, then it's likely not a good story.  And, oh yes, I thought of that.  In fact, that was my first reaction when the idea crossed my mind.  No, not a good reason, but there's a good reason that trumps it, even in my mind.  Three words for you:  Major Abdominal Surgery.

Don't get me wrong.  If it were a question of a c-section or my baby's health and safety, I'd take the c-section in a heartbeat.  But just because...?  (Just because my labor isn't progressing fast enough?  Just because I had one the last time?)  No, thank you.

My first decision was, in order to avoid the increased risk of a c-section, I'd skip the induction this time.  Inductions worked well with both of my others, but why take the chance?  As much as I love the doctor who delivered both of my babies (I scheduled so I could ensure she delivered them), I figured I could stand to wait it out this time.

And I was okay with that.  But I still planned the epidural.  After all, epidurals don't increase your risk of c-section, right?  Right?

But then I started stumbling across comments...birth stories...anecdotal evidence that maybe an epidural does increase your risk of c-section.  Stories of epidurals slowing down labor so much that the doctor orders on the pitocin, which leads to more interventions (some necessary, others possibly not), which eventually would lead to a c-section.

Really?  So I asked around a little, and found some literature, and did some research (admittedly secondhand - I just don't have the time to read the studies for myself at this point).  And there is actually quite a bit of evidence that an epidural can lead to an increased risk of c-section...and that it might not be best for Mommy and Baby in a vaginal delivery, either.

(Yes, I just used the word "vaginal."  Sorry, Dad, and any other men who might read this.  That's just how babies come out, at least 67% of the time.  Yes, you read that right, 67%.)

There are other reasons.  I know that the odds of the epidural slowing down labor enough to lead to a c/s in a third-time mom are fairly slim, but that was just where the research started, the tip of the iceberg, to use an overused cliche.  I'll get into some of the other reasons in a future post...but as I'm not trying to start a debate, I don't want to go into too much detail.  Just know that I have researched this, and I've found enough additional reasons to labor unmedicated that I feel very comfortable with my decision.

I'll admit, however, that I wasn't too happy about this at first.  I didn't want to skip the epidural.  I mean, hello?  Pain?  We are not friends.  We have never even been what you might call semi-close acquaintances.  But the more I looked into it, the more I felt convicted that that was the best route for me and for my baby.  It's not the best choice for everyone, but I feel clearly that it will be best for us.

So if I was going to do it, the next step was to figure out how to do it.  Which meant even more research.  And I learned that it's not always excruciatingly painful.  That it doesn't have to be scary...it really is a natural process!  Natural contracting and releasing of muscles, pulling up and out, to open up the...opening...(I'm trying, Dad) -- That doesn't sound nearly as frightening as I always imagined it.

I do realize it is usually painful, and I am not expecting it to be painless.  I know childbirth isn't easy, and it's not going to feel good.  I don't think I have any unrealistic expectations (but then again, who ever thinks they do?)  But I am trying to not have any specific expectations about how it is going to feel.  I'll plan on taking it as it comes.  I'm researching, and exercising, and preparing myself for what my body will go through, but trying not to have expectations beyond the knowledge that it is going to be a lot of hard work.

(Aaaaaaaand....the first storm is here.  It seems to have broken up a little bit as it hit the "Ohio River Triangle," where many storms seem to get lost, never to be seen again, but for the most part, this one made it through, and I'm going to try to remain calm until it passes.)

To my surprise, though (going back to the original discussion), I am finding that I am looking forward to the experience.  It didn't start out that way, and that was never and will never be my primary motivation. I'm not wanting to be one of those people who is "doing it just so I can say I can."  I think it's the best choice for me and my little Bumblebee, and I will continue to think that as long as no new, substantiated information comes along that tells me otherwise (specifically, from my caregiver; otherwise, I'm not going to change my mind).

There is a lot more to this story, but I realize this has gotten long and rambling.  I wasn't joking when I questioned my ability, at first, to organize my thoughts into something cohesive and coherent.  I think I've gotten my point across, but I think I could have said it much better, too.  So I apologize for that, and will try to put my thoughts in better order before I write the next installment.

(Incidentally, the storms are over now, unless something else pops up tonight.  The second storm that was headed our way pretty much did die on the Ohio River.  And I have no problem at all with that!)

Baby Bumblebee

I'm bringin' home a baby bumblebee...won't my mommy be so proud of me?

Well, we aren't bringing home our Baby Bumblebee quite yet, but we did get a look at her last Thursday.

And yes, I did say her.  We found out on Thursday that our Birdie and our Imp are getting a little sister!

The Birdie was quite excited when we told her Thursday afternoon, although not in the least surprised, which was, well, surprising, since we hadn't yet told her that she was getting a new little sibling.  Somehow, though, I think she just knew.

She was full of questions when she found out.  Remarkably intuitive questions, at least in my opinion.

"Is she in Mommy's tummy?"  (First thing she said when we told her.  I thought this would be a stumbling block - "Did Mommy eat the baby?" - but I guess she picked up somewhere on her own that babies grow in Mommies' tummies.)

"What's her name?"

"I'm going to sing her a song!"  And she got up and danced around the room, singing something about her sister and how Valentine's Day is her favorite holiday and a few other things that I couldn't understand.  It was precious.

Then, just as I was patting myself on the back for raising such an amazing little girl who understands everything there is to know without having to explain it, she asked, "Can I see her?"

And pretty much once a day since then, she will give Baby Bumblebee a hug, and ask if she's going to come out today.  We have to remind her that it will be a long time, still.  This morning, she told me that she wanted Baby Bumblebee to stay home when I went to work.  But I could leave, that was okay.

Ahhh, I'm feeling the love.

The Imp, by the way, is oblivious.  I'm sure he will remain blissfully unaware until the day that we bring home a tiny squalling thing that hogs Mommy for most of the day.  I'm curious interested apprehensive worried terrified to see how he reacts when Mommy acquires a new appendage (and it's not him).

But we are excited about our little girl on the way, who, incidentally, has existed in our minds and our hearts ever since we were expecting the Birdie and we came up with four names (two girls' names and two boys' names).  Yes, indeed.  When we were expecting baby #1, we decided on 4 names - a 1st choice girl's name, a 2nd choice girl's name*, a 1st choice boy's name, and a 2nd choice boy's name.  And when we came up with those names, all 4 of those babies became real people in my mind, even though three of them didn't exist yet, and at the time we didn't know "who" #1 was.  The #2 boy's name has changed a bit since we originally came up with the names, but none of the others did, and now I'm just as attached to that name (and that little boy) as I have been with each of the others.  So as long as #4 is a boy, everything will be perfect!

What?  You mean you can't plan it out like that?  Really?  Haha.  So far, we have been very lucky and it has worked out the way we "planned" (girl-boy-girl) - but if something doesn't go according to our plan...well, who are we to make plans, anyway?  (And we're already talking about another girl's name, just in case.)

Let's just try not to get too attached to this name, because we're really not planning a #5.

* Our #2 girl's name really was only 2nd choice in Craig's mind - honestly, I'd have been extremely disappointed if we hadn't gotten to use it, because it incorporates a special part of my name that my mom shares, too, so you can imagine how ecstatic I am now.

Birth Story: The Imp

Today I am joining Mama M.'s Birthstory Blog Hop with the story from when my son was born.  Sadly, I can't find my daughter's birth story (although I am still looking), but if/when I find it, I will share that also.

My Imp was born on June 4, 2008, at 6:13 p.m. He was 6 lbs, 9 oz. and 19.5 in. long.

I was scheduled for an elective induction on June 4th. I chose that date because it was past 39 weeks (39w2d) and my doctor was on call. Interestingly, the Imp was due on a Monday and induced and born on a Wednesday, exactly the same as his sister, a year-and-a-half earlier.

As with the Birdie, I was told to call Labor & Delivery at 5-in-the-morning (yuk) to find out when they wanted me to come in. With the Birdie, they had me come in right away, and that was what I expected this time. Much to my disappointment, the girl I spoke to told me they were having a "computer glitch" and to call back at 7. I was not happy, and there were a few tears.

At 7:00, I called back, certain they'd tell me to come in within the next couple of hours. (By 9:00 at the worst, I figured.) The nurse told me, "Yes, you're on hold for a room, and we'll call you when one is available." What?! That was not what the first nurse had told me. There wasn't a room for me at all? Now there were a lot of tears.

I called again at 9:00 because I didn't like being at their mercy for a phone call, and the (same, sigh) nurse told me that I was still on hold, but that I was "next on the list," which meant I was going to get in that day (at that point, I had been certain it wasn't going to happen). So I waited a bit more, and just before 10:00, the nurse called and told me to come on in. Yay! (When I got there, the same nurse that I had been bugging with phone calls was the one who checked me in, but at least she was nice about it.)

They got me hooked up to an IV around 10:45 and started pitocin around 11:15. Right after that, my doctor went ahead and broke my water. I was still at 3-4 cm at this point. I'm not sure when I got the epidural, but it wasn't long after that, probably at 12-something. That wasn't fun. Since my contractions really weren't all that bad at that point, I was focused entirely on the sensation of a catheter being put into my spine, which was NOT pleasant. And yes, you CAN feel it going in. I whined a lot, although the doctor did commend me for doing a "good job" (meaning I held still). My response was, "Like I'm NOT going to hold still when you're putting something into my spine!" It did feel like it was off to the left a little bit, and I think that I was right about that because my left side ended up being MUCH more numb than my right side the whole time. Truly, I HATE the epidural, but I wouldn't dare go through labor without one.

The entire afternoon was spent waiting, and waiting and waiting. Starting around 4:30 or so, I could feel the Imp really low. It didn't feel like I needed to push, but it seemed like he was getting close. The nurse checked me at 5:00 and I was 7 cm. The nurse said things could go quickly from there because his head was pretty low, but I was pretty much expecting him to be born fairly close to 8 p.m. because of the whole 1 cm/hour once you’re in active labor thing. She told me to call her back in there if the pressure got worse.

Ten minutes later, the pressure got worse. I knew I was crazy for calling the nurse back, but I did, anyway. She checked me at 5:15 and said, "Your cervix is almost gone, and his head is right there!" I was shocked – I had gone from 7 cm to ready to have a baby in 15 minutes. How scary is that? I mean, if for some reason I wasn't ready, or I if told Craig, "I'm only 7 cm, why don't you get dinner now while there's still time?" Which, of course, I didn't, but still - it was very eye-opening.

My doctor and I had decided ahead of time that we'd let him "labor down" on his own instead of having me push right away. Turned out I didn't have a choice because she had just started someone else’s c-section at 5:15 so she wasn't available to "catch" him, anyway. The nurse said the timing would be "just right," that my doctor would do the c-section then come in and deliver the baby.

So we waited for her, and waited, and waited some more. It felt like an eternity, and I could feel him getting lower and lower with each contraction. Finally, around 6:05 the nurse came in and checked me again. She said something along the lines of, "Oh, yeah, he's right there!" I asked her how far in he actually was, and she measured it on her finger - about the distance to her first knuckle, roughly an inch. Again, I was shocked. And WHERE was my doctor?

At this point, the room became a blur of nurses setting up stuff for the Imp's imminent arrival. My mom took away my cell phone (yes, I'd been texting updates to people this whole time) and the L&D nurse got me ready to push. She had Craig get on one leg and, to my surprise, my mom get on my other leg (at that point, I was beyond being uncomfortable about it – but it was a shame because Mom had been going to take pictures of the Imp coming out, although from a less graphic angle than straight-on. Since they were digital pictures, I figured I could delete anything that made me uncomfortable.) The nurse had me do a "practice push," I guess to see how things were going to work, and right after that, my doctor came in. I pushed for one contraction, and she said he was close, and then on the second contraction, I started pushing and she said, "Okay, he's out!" Amazing. And I guess because of the way the epidural was working, this time I actually felt him come out of my belly - not the pain, but the release of pressure as he came out. It felt really weird, but in a good way because the pressure was causing some nausea that stopped when he came out.

Unlike with the Birdie, they immediately put him on my chest, before he'd been cleaned up, and I got to hold him right away. I was shocked that he was blue-ish, although I guess this is normal because he was crying and he pinked up right away when the nurse rubbed him. It was amazing to get to hold my little boy right away. After I got to hold him for a few minutes and everyone got some pictures, they took him off to clean him up, measure him, and weigh him (he was actually 6 lbs 8.8 oz), then gave him back to me and everyone except family cleared out and I got to nurse him. That, also, was amazing. I didn't get to nurse the Birdie right away because I was shaking/nauseated and I had to be drugged up immediately. He nursed so well right from the start, and he's been good at it ever since.

Oddly, I started having the shaking and nausea right after I finished nursing him and they took him away. I threw up a couple of times, and they gave me phenergan and carted me off to the mother-baby unit. I was in a lot of pain that night overnight, I guess from him being in the birth canal for so long (the pain was in my butt) so they gave him a bottle overnight because I didn't feel like I could sit up to nurse him. I was better by that morning, though, and the bottle didn't hurt breastfeeding any.

We went home on Friday morning, and his weight was still good at 6 lbs 4 oz. At the pediatrician the next morning, he had dropped to 6 lbs even (my guess would be that he didn't pass most of the meconium until Friday because I didn't change any dirty diapers until then, and that caused his weight to drop more after we went home than before). On Monday, he was back up to 6 lbs 4 oz, and by the following Friday, he was 6 lbs 10 oz, so he did a great job of making up for what he lost!

The last paragraph was from when I wrote this up, I guess when he was a month or so old.  I'm leaving it in for nostalgia's sake.

He has been an amazing baby. So far, he rarely cries - just during some diaper changes or if he gets hungry and someone other than me is holding him. He's very easy to calm - usually if I pick him up he will quiet right down. And he has been really good on me with sleeping. He sleeps in a little glider beside my bed and as long as I don't doze off while I'm nursing him overnight, he'll let me sleep for several hours at a time lying down in my bed.

I am so blessed to have my two beautiful babies, the Imp (6/4/2008) and my Bitty Birdie (12/13/2006)!

First photo (or one of them):

First kiss from his sister:

3 Months Old:

6 months old:

9 Months Old:

1 year old:

18 Months Old:

Irony (and some Big News)

I wanted to share some irony (and some news) with you.  I've been wanting to post about this for a while, but it's something that I expected to take a while to write, and I haven't had a lot of time to sit down and write, lately.  With both kids in their rooms, apparently napping (although I keep hearing noises from the Birdie, so this might not last long) I thought I'd give it a try.

My husband and I have been to Disney World three times since we got married.  The first trip down there was our "babymoon," which we took in May 2006, when I was in late 1st trimester with the Birdie.  It was fantastic, except for me being exhausted the whole time.  The. Whole. Time.  Most days (if I am remembering this correctly), Craig and I would go to the parks in the late morning, return in early afternoon, and I would take a nap while he would go back for a few hours.  Also, I couldn't ride any real rides.  I am a ride-a-holic, so that was pretty hard for me.  Worth it, but hard.

Our second trip was in January 2008.  We were spending a week in Daytona (a mistake, because there is almost NOTHING to do in Daytona, although we had a nice time anyway) and decided to take a day and go to Disney World.  My birthday, January 10, to be specific.  At that point, I was 18 weeks pregnant with the Imp, so we just took the Birdie to Epcot and walked a lot.  A lot.  But I wasn't exhausted anymore - that was a bonus.

After we left Disney World, on the ride back to Daytona, I started brainstorming.  We needed to make a trip to Disney when we could stay on the property and have lots of fun, preferably with friends and family there.  We thought November 2009 would be good timing, because November is a slow month at Disney, but the weather is still nice, the Birdie would not yet be three (kids under 3 get in free), and the Imp would be old enough to enjoy it, too (17 months).  We planned and schemed for the next year and a half.  We got my parents and Craig's parents on board and even got one of my good friends, Jaime, to join us there with her family, too.  We weren't able to stay on the property, but we were able to stay close enough that we may as well have been on property - for a lot less money.  It was perfect!

And I was very excited about the fact that I'd be at Disney World and not be pregnant.  I'd have plenty of energy.  I'd be able to ride the rides.  I'd be able to have a glass of wine here and there if I wanted to.

Oh yes.  I bet you can see where this is going.

I'm sure, at this point, it won't be much of a stretch for you to figure out what I discovered just two weeks before we were scheduled to leave.

That's right.  Baby #3 will be here in mid-July 2010.

(Yes, as a matter of fact, we do know how that happens.  But thanks for the offer, anyway.)

We were planning on trying for #3 when we got back from Disney World, so this really did not throw a wrench in anything (except maybe my plans to have a few drinks at Disney, but who needs that anyway?  Probably saved us some money!)  It just pushed things up one or two months.

So, we are very excited, and looking forward to meeting our new little one in just a few short months!