2nd Time's A Charm

Hey! So, we had another baby! It's taken me awhile to write about this mostly due to sheer sleepiness and no time whatsoever. Seriously. I can't even return my parents' phone calls. However, in the wake of all the fallout regarding opening or revisiting conversations regarding mental health and depression, I'm going to try to put this all down.

In short: I was terrified for 9 months due to the PTSD and postpartum depression I suffered after the birth of our first. Terrified. Therefore, that and the absence of tequila made for a
VERY. LONG. PREGNANCY.

Last October when we decided to have another child, I was all, "YEAH! LET'S DO THIS!" and then two days after seeing the positive pregnancy test, was curled up in the fetal position. I was convinced I was going to die. Actually had to do some MAJOR working through emotionally and spiritually for 9 months about this. It may not make a lot of sense to a lot of people, but it's like...my body chose flight from the very beginning, and even when I was in the hospital I had a hard time getting my body and my brain and my soul convinced that it was go time. For 9 months, my brain told me awful stories over and over again, random events being taken and twisted. Awful stuff. I wanted to get back on my antidepressant but unfortunately that made me feel physically horrible and even more mentally unstable so I dropped that idea pretty quickly. I had to walk, eat fresh and nutritious food, and be real with my mama tribe - trust the community that I had to work to be a part of for 3 years.

Fortunately, I had a completely different social, emotional, and professional framework from which to approach this pregnancy. Love, support, open arms and ears from every which way. There was an outpouring of information and cheering-on from women who had VBAC'd before, and not just women in my generation. In fact, the aunts and friends with college-age children taught me so much about their VBAC experiences. It was beautiful. I still puked nearly every day until discovering the magic of Zantac in the third trimester, and being pregnant, planning a music therapy conference, working part-ish time while chasing a preschooler...it takes a lot out of a person. There are so many things that made it all tolerable - friends stealing my oldest so I could nap or just have time to think my thoughts, or supper sharing (You have corn chips and beans? I have chicken and cheese! Let's make nachos!), and not to mention friends with stashes of Zofran. There were gorgeous mother blessings, and in the week between 40- and 41- weeks, there were innumerable "random" kindnesses. Our elderly neighbors brought us cookies, people called or Emailed to check-in, and sweet ladies texted me not "have you had that baby yet?" but "thinking about you and holding you up in love" type texts. I cried at the abundance of support.

My wonderfully VBAC-cheerleading doctor was scheduled to deliver her own baby the same week I was due. This sent me into a bit of a frenzy of doubt and I considered changing doctors. I was talked off that ledge and eventually did need to be transferred to the care of another doctor, but after a lot of talking and crying and journaling and more counsel from wise women, ended up being fine with it. After all, the doctor's job is to generally catch the baby or intervene when necessary and that one person may or may not end up on call when your time comes, so there's really no point in holding on so tightly to the thought of one person making or breaking your experience. I trusted the facility where I would be birthing, trusted my birth team, so I slowly came around to trusting that everything was going to be okay. I had to decide that I would be the one deciding how my experience would go. Mentally I held VBAC-ing at a distance. I wasn't married to the idea, just because I didn't want to be disappointed. I set my expectations bar very, very low for this birth. My goal was to come home healthy, with a healthy baby, without feeling like a prisoner of war. Everything else I could take or leave.

My due date came and went. No baby. Of course. I was not at all expecting anything early to happen. Hopeful? Yes. Dubious? Totally. Since my first was born at 42.5 weeks I just hunkered, stayed away from my phone and Facebook and walked like I had never walked before. I did all the interventions I knew how to. Red Raspberry Leaf tea, Evening Primrose Oil up one side and down the other (you'll know what this means if you're in a crunchy birth community. If not, ask me about it.), sex, everything. My body just was not ready at 40 weeks. Around 40.5 (Monday) I had a nonstress test, and everything looked great but fluid levels were a little iffy, so the doc wanted me to come back on Wednesday to repeat the test. Tuesday I tried castor oil, and while it made me power puke, it did not start off contractions. I went back in on Wednesday morning, where we found out the fluid levels had dropped, and she had me go "straight to L&D." Do not go home, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

Well.

Since I had eaten a paltry breakfast due to the effects of the previous nights castor oil extravaganza, I instead went to get a turkey sandwich, got adjusted by my chiro, and then went to L&D. I might have a little bit of a problem with authority. I got hooked up and answered all the check-in questions while I waited for the Mr. to show up. He had stayed home to finish up packing and deliver our daughter to the friends watching her for the day. When he arrived, the doctor did as well and placed the foley bulb. She maybe got a little flustered and asked if I had gone home because everything was "behind schedule." She and I were clearly not a match made in heaven, but whatever. She checked to make sure that I was at least a little dilated, and I could feel her fingers on the baby's head.

A foley bulb and low dose pitocin induction is a great option for VBAC mamas. The foley manually dilates the cervix but is kind of awkward - there's the bulb inside and then this long tube and then a bag of saline dangling for counter pressure, and YES it is just about as awkward as you can imagine that whole scenario. Upon reaching 4 cm, the bulb falls out and then the rest of labor should be pretty straightforward. So the doc places the foley bulb and I start getting my fainting aura of slowly not being able to hear. My sweet nurse rushed to put a wet cloth on my forehead and get me some ice. Bless her.

I made it to 4 cm and the bulb fell out and there were high fives all around. And then the doc came in to break my water and realized, right hand checking for dilation and left hand wielding a crochet hook looking device like a wizard wand, that the baby had turned. Transverse. She put the hook down and asked to turn off the pitocin and asked for a sono machine. The Mr. texted my doula who came rushing in from a twin birth to see what was going on. Doc says "c section" and I say, "give me time." Actually, I totally freaked out and ugly cried, and THEN requested some time. During this time I had like, three doulas around me trying to figure out every which way to turn the baby. We were on the spinning babies website, doing inversions, and at one point even had ice and peppermint oil on his head to see if he would turn. Nothing. After about an hour and a half the doc came back in and the nugget was still in the same position, and babies don't come out transverse.

So, we settled in to wait our turn in the OR, chatting and telling jokes. When it was time I walked into the OR, had a long talk with the anesthesiologist so he could keep an eye on my blood pressure, and they hooked up my Spotify "Labor and Birth" playlist. I was nervous, so that means I chatted nonsensically with everyone in the room, and an OR tech kept asking me about my awesome songs that were, in his words, "the perfect playlist - and I'll tell you what. I've heard a lot of these playlists. Yours is the best." Mr. S. had the job of announcing the sex of the baby, and was told to stay at my side the whole time. The surgeons got to work on me and my sweet doula kept a cotton ball of lavender by my nose so I wouldn't have to smell the cauterizing. After a bit, and a whole bunch of digging around in my uterus to get the baby to turn head down (it didn't happen - he came out breech), they said, "Ready dad?" and Mr. S stood up and said, a little choked-up, "We had a boy!"

*we have to pause right here for a minute because I am tearing-up just remembering that moment.*

Everyone in the OR cheered and cried, and I ugly-cried. I was seriously floored, surprised beyond everything, and said something special along the lines of, "I was growing a penis this whole time and had no idea!" Early on I suspected it was a boy, and now looking back I had so much that I was hoping for in this birth but was afraid to hope for, so I talked myself out of things so that I wouldn't eventually be disappointed. Not that we would have been disappointed had we had a girl because SISTERS!, and we have a really great girl name, but I loved the idea of trying something new this time, learning new things.

Here's where things in the OR get really awesome. Little man was taken over to the table to be checked out and Mr. S stayed to hold my hand. Then they brought the babe over to me and laid him on my chest while I was stitched up. As a family we gazed at each other and laughed and touched faces and nuzzled. It was the most amazing thing. I never felt alone or scared, just overwhelming joy and love. Mr. S held baby while I was put on a gurney to be wheeled to recovery and when it was all over, the babe was back on my chest. He nursed like a champ in recovery and we got to face time late with sweet A to let her know she had a little brother.

So yeah, totally different things learned the second time around. The recovery was STILL not a picnic, but my mind and body weren't fried as badly, and I wasn't scared of being a mom. In fact, I turned tearfully to Mr. S one day and said, "I think I've been depressed for four years. And now it's gone." Reminds me of a verse in Isaiah:

"Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
43:15-16

Fits perfectly with what we named him - after a famous wilderness philanthropist.

And hey, here's my Labor and Birth Tunes playlist. He was born while "Out of the Woods" by Nickel Creek was playing, followed by "Magic" by Coldplay.

community will save you.

It wasn't until after baby A was born that I found the parents, the anchors, the friends that have gotten me through the last three years. We moved ourselves right in and pursued the hearts and kitchens and sanity of each other and when I think that I've only been friends with some of these people for less than 3 years...it's mind-blowing. 

I was in a dark place after A's birth and community turned the light back on. I know it's rare but our neighborhood has for the most part very similar parenting styles and is full of people who love to laugh, eat and drink together, and watch our kids grow. I was worried that A would have that "only child syndrome" because I was going to stay home with her, but 10 minutes into a playdate you can see what the parents in the heights see every day: our kids are pretty much like siblings. Which in turn means that my kid basically has like 10 siblings. They laugh and fight and cry and taunt each other in ways that only siblings can. I love this, I love watching this, and I hope that 20 years from now our kids will have what I have: a network of friends with WAY too much dirt on each other. 

Community has gotten me through this pregnancy in the most incredible ways, and when pregnant mamas ask me what they need to know, I tell them that they need to start building their village. It can be built after the baby gets here but I think it would have helped to know who was out there and exactly where when the time came for me to reach out and find other families. I find this happens pretty much around 4-6 months with first timers...once you start sleeping a little bit more and feeling like you can be more than just a feeding/cleaning machine that runs on nothing but caffeine and snuggles. 

Last pregnancy I was fairly sure I had to do everything myself, including pull myself up from my bootstraps when I was feeling crappy. This time, when exhaustion or the funk sets in I know there are people I can call to make sure my child doesn't set fire to herself accidentally while I lay on the couch drifting in and out of consciousness. People to eat with when I don't feel like cooking or eating, people to come over and play when one more 3-year-old "I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT" (really? it's just putting on your socks...) threatens to turn me into a quivering mess of defeat.

Community. Get you one. You won't regret it. And if you get into a crappy one, get out of that and find your people. They're out there, and want to love you.

hospitality and contemplation

This past weekend I had the opportunity to first drive down to NB to see my brand new niece and take the fledgling family dinner. I stayed with a dear friend and the next day drove to Austin for a women's conference called IF:Gathering and stayed with Austinites. I had the best time, and was struck over and over again by the hospitality of my friends. Both houses I stayed in, these are folks I have known at least a decade or more, and man. They know how to host a guest. I am so thankful.

I walked away inspired by both women immensely. At the first house, I quizzed her on her morning routine (she gets up at 5am! I wish I had that kind of discipline!) to drink coffee, eat an apple and some peanut butter, watch the news, gather her thoughts. She explained all this while stirring extra salt into her crunchy peanut butter. I have never lived by myself, but from this brief overnight started thinking that even though I don't live by myself now, I can still have routines and order just because that is who I want to be and how I want to live. Kind of like, living independently while living in community, if that makes sense. It is something that is difficult to do while trying to run a house and take care of two other people but I think maybe cultivating some practices that are just my own - ie: doing the dishes because I like a clean slate before starting a project/meal, and not because I am obligated to the other people in my house to do it - will help me retain my me-ness in this season. 

I am intoxicated by the thought of a morning to myself. A quiet, pre-breakfast snack, tea-filled time of contemplation, journaling, and whatever I want, before the day gets rowdy and hectic. Because oh man. Until about the end of March, life is full to the brim with things that have to get done, and life with a toddler and husband and being pregnant...hectic. rowdy. I just have to start putting myself to bed at 9:30 to make this happen. It's worth a shot.

The second house I stayed at I felt such freedom to find rest and be nourished. This friend moved recently from Dallas back to her house in Austin and I realized that I had never actually stayed at her house in our near decade of friendship because we had always lived close by each other. The first morning there, she made me this bowl of greatness for me that I have to share: 

Quinoa Love Bowl: The only things that are essential here are some quinoa and a fried egg. Everything else is optional, so feel free to riff on it. The original one made by my friend had quinoa, egg, turkey sausage, and avocado. This morning's variation features avocado, tomatoes, and parmesan cheese. Think seasonal and delicious when creating yours. I know that tomatoes aren't in season right now but Whole Foods tricked me into buying local heirloom ones that I thought were ready, but they're not. Still a little too crunchy...and I was too hungry to wilt them in a hot pan before eating. We have some pickled beets in the fridge and right now I'm dreaming of one with pickled beets, goat cheese, and wilted kale. 

Let me know what your favorite morning or evening routines are. I am inherently a person who loathes routine, but lately find myself craving the development of little regular oases...anchors in the storm of life.

It's Time to Begin, Isn't It?

This post today is brought to you by tremendous amounts of ugly crying. 

I am sitting here, overwhelmed, because suddenly I want to write about ALL THE THINGS...there is so much. But I'll just start with today and call it good enough. 

I'm 16 weeks pregnant with our second kiddo, and last week had my first appointment with the doctor who will deliver this baby. Suffice to say I had a really tough time picking a provider. My first daughter's birth was completely wheels-off and crazy and I spent nearly three years cowering in PPD and off-the-charts anxiety. I didn't write a lot because I had a lot to sort through, relationship-wise, mama-wise, and I didn't want to do it publicly. I guess I'm writing to say: It Gets Better.

Birth trauma sucks, and I'm learning from dear friends that you don't even have to have a three day labor that ends in a cesarean birth to be traumatized. The loss of control, blood, modesty, and sometimes even just the startling fact of, "I'm used to things working out, and this might not work out..." is enough to send one's body into a super case of fight-or-flight. And not in a good way.

So...fast forward through rocking my newborn with tears streaming down my face, countless therapy sessions, anxiety attacks, nighttime (ie: INFINITELY WORSE) anxiety attacks, prayers on my face, friends not understanding, thinking I'm crazy, therapy, being terrified of having more babies, antidepressants, and...did I mention therapy? to two days after I found out I am pregnant again: me, curled up in the fetal position, telling the mister that I'm convinced I'm going to die.

Hello, fight-or-flight. Missed you.

Just kidding. Opposite day. More like:
WHAT THE HELL I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEALT WITH.

Surprise.

And you know what? This pregnancy was TOTALLY PLANNED. I went into this all "YEAH! best idea ever! it's going to be great!" thinking that I could just fake it 'til I made it. So, back into therapy I went, for several different areas of life. The journaling and processing started up again, and I began searching for a supportive birth team. I spilled the beans the day that plus sign showed up to my previous doula/current chiropractor. We cried, and then after a few weeks she gave me the names of several providers in the area, and suggested a meeting with the best doula we knew to help get my head straight. After that meeting I scheduled an appointment with the doctor who delivered A and then one with a doctor she recommended.

The one who delivered A was...fine. Charming. Great guy. I mostly went because I was curious how my feelings would be about him, and also because I wanted to get his perspective on VBACs. I'd heard he was one of THE guys in Dallas that champion them. I was disappointed to have him start immediately laying out risks and all the ways in which a VBAC could go wrong, including uterine rupture, which he mentioned at my 6 week postpartum checkup and then I made the mistake of googling it and ended up on the floor in my first panic attack that day. Don't get me wrong, I have climbed way out of the crunchy rabbit hole since my very, very humbling birth with A and I have pretty much ZERO expectations, and a healthy appreciation for modern medicine, so I need to hear that stuff. Throw in a transvaginal sonogram done by a dude and we'll just say I was...turned off.

Since I was a new patient with the new doctor I had to wait to be seen first to do labs (at around 13 weeks is when I did this), then meet with the RN to get a full history taken and THEN meet with the doc (this was last week). I had even managed to get my ex-midwife to give me a copy of my file (that in itself is its own blog post) and brought it. The RN and doc had lots of questions about my birth, wanted to know what my expectations were for this one, and led with the empowering and empathetic understanding I was looking for in doc #1. They said things like, "You will NOT be in labor for 3 days this time." and "You made it to 8cm with no pain meds? You've so got this." and "We're going to be realistic about where your birth is going, don't get me wrong, but we're also not going to put you on a clock and insist on a cesarean and pull the plug early on your efforts." The RN and the doc both effervesced about the nursing staff at the hospital, the doula I chose, and my chiropractor.

When the doc left the room, I exhaled, replaced my paper gown with my clothes, and slowly walked through the hallway to the checkout counter, admiring all the squishy babies on the wall. As I checked out, I felt a prickle behind my eyes that turned into full on bawling by the time I made it to my car. I sat and sobbed like a crazy person...like a full-on Biblical professional wailing woman. I started getting a little concerned it wasn't going to stop but I just kept scrolling through my playlists on Spotify, landing on whatever song struck me as appropriate. Imagine Dragons was first and then Bob Marley. I forget the rest.

It went on for about 20 minutes.

It's been a week, and I can say that whatever that was turned a tiny little light on in my soul. I can repeat, "I am safe," to myself at night when a nightmare wakes me up, and I believe it. I am actually hungry, I laugh more, and I feel like being around people again. I know this is probably coinciding with the second trimester boost, but whatever. That catharsis was way overdue and I know it did my heart some good. I honestly didn't know how sad and anxious I was until it all came pouring out.

Am I sleep deprived? Stressed? Unsure? Yes. I have a three year old and have NO IDEA what I'm doing. She sleeps like an alligator trying to take large prey under on a death roll, and I'm either starving or have to pee 24/7. But this little light...it's started shining through the cracks.

I'm dancing again, trusting, hoping again.

Phew. It gets better.

humbled.

I got a facebook message from an acquaintance from Longhorn Band who said that she is at 41 weeks prego and may be looking at an induction, which may lead to a c-section and what was humbling is that her friend recommended she talked to me about my whole birth experience. It was wonderfully therapeutic to pay it forward in a way, to encourage her that she is strong and can get through it. Humbled because it made me realize that even though I'm feeling a little lost these days, scrambling to add structure and get into a groove, that the story of Adeline's birth is one that needs to be told and retold and reminds me of how hard I worked for her. It's a story that grounds me and makes me stop and appreciate my family, and what we've endured together.

I found these quotes today and love them:

"Birth is not only about making babies. It's about making mothers~ strong, competent, capable mothers who trust themselves and believe in their inner strength." - Barbara Katz Rothman

The wisdom and compassion a woman can intuitively experience in childbirth can make her a source of healing and understanding for other women.
Stephen Gaskin

****UPDATE****

I received this facebook message yesterday, seriously warmed my heart:

Thank you, thank you, thank you. You were able to instill so much confidence that I had lost and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. We were induced with Pitocin Monday afternoon and he was born this morning at 9:53 am. Other than the Pit (to work on contractions) we were able to labor and deliver with no other drugs.  Thank you so much for your help.

*glow*

This just in: contractions are painful.

Had another sonogram today and everything looked great, more importantly the tech and the doctor were a thousand times better than the jerk I went to last week. I also just went to the midwife - definitely in early labor, trying to relax and get some rest, about to take a warm bath to relax and hopefully get some sleep tonight as it'll be anywhere between 4 and 14 hours before I get into active labor. 

Looks like it's going to be a December baby?

guts

"God, give me guts."

-Eli Mygatt

Last night I was a mess of anxiety, knowing that the morning brought castor oil and all the unstoppable things that come with it. Castor oil has been used through the ages to induce labor naturally. I suppose I should mention that we are indeed down to that wire of labor induction.

I'm 42 weeks and 1 day. 

My midwife is in daily contact with her backup obstetrician. 

He gave us one more day: tomorrow.

But first, today. I had a rough night - any pregnant woman will tell you that the last few weeks of pregnancy are not at all comfortable. There's insane pressure on your bladder, which means waking up pretty much every 2 hours on the hour to pee. Plus I was anxious...kind of in a day-before-Disneyland kind of way...so I was up at 2am researching castor oil inductions and experiences on the internet. Then at 4:30am my dog decided to get sympathy GI issues and whined and scratched to be let out. So yeah. rough night. At 8:30 this morning I started drinking a concoction of frozen fruit and castor oil and it tasted like...you know how some cutting boards (ie: bamboo) you have to oil? It tasted like fruit and cutting board. Or, like wooden chop sticks. Not too bad amongst the mangos, strawberries, pineapples, and banana. 

It took all of 15 minutes for my body to realize that that right there was not just a smoothie and started rebelling accordingly. I got super lethargic and a little bit weepy, then took a walk, where (surprise!) I threw up about 1/3 of the smoothie. Maybe more like 1/4. At any rate, it's all that was in my stomach today and it was just as fruity on the way back out. 

Castor oil cleans you out. Like, more intensely and effectively than anything I've ever done before. I know people tell horror stories about it, but really it wasn't that bad. I actually felt scrubbed clean from the inside out. Then I felt really dehydrated and crappy, so I took a nap and then went to my midwife appointment at 2:30pm. 

From that appointment I learned that I had indeed progressed a little from last time, and she proceeded to strip membranes, which is NOT the most comfortable thing I've ever done. It was actually pretty terrible, but it didn't last long, and she felt the baby respond to it (drop down a little) and really in a weird sort of way I felt this crazy relief. I don't know if it came from me or the kid but it was like an "aha!" moment, like this is the way things were supposed to be fitting together. It was at this appointment she mentioned that we've got one more day, to do the castor oil again earlier in the morning, and to put myself on a schedule that alternates nipple stimulation via breast pump, hip shaking, and walking. All those things plus the herbs/supplements I'm taking (red raspberry leaf, evening primrose oil) are the natural forms of whatever induction I'd be receiving in the hospital. Granted not as strong (which is a good thing), but still. And of course sex was mentioned for the semen's prostaglandin effect on the whole process, which after some research I read that's what Cervidil (a cervix dilator) is - just synthetic prostaglandins. You can decide for yourself which is more fun ;)

So then after that I went down to my chiro/doula and got adjusted, then took a power walk around the park. I've been getting cramps pretty seriously since I left my midwife's and have a couple more hours of induction activities before I take the rest of the night off and try to get good sleep.

That's all for now, any questions?

42 weeks...and counting...

I got all excited the last couple days 'cos I woke up Friday and puked and felt craptastic all day, then yesterday while walking around the Heard Museum with the fam was getting nice little contractions throughout the day...but hey, still no baby. I have a date with castor oil in the morning, and another midwife appointment in the afternoon. I found a really beautiful quote book that had the following in it, which is really encouraging: 

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work, and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey."

-Wendell Berry

Here's to uncharted territory :)

chiropractic fun

Today I went and got adjusted by my chiropractor/doula and she shut down my right hip and opened up my left, then did some shifting and encouraging of the baby to scoot over to the left side, and suggested I go home and lay on my left side (= NAP!) so hopefully that'll get things all in the right spot. She also said that she recently adjusted a baby who was due at 43 weeks. So you know, no big deal.

I have to admit that Thanksgiving has totally snuck up on me. I was so focused on the baby showing up that I didn't think to plan for what would happen if it didn't. So today, I ripped up my tomato and basil plants and basically went grocery shopping at the plant store. Of course now I have to get all of it (lemon thyme, collard greens, cabbage, parsley, cilantro, etc.) in the ground and mulched and watered before the first big freeze. You know, tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have some pics up soon.

huh?

Although one is not truly "overdue" until 42 weeks, there is a certain protocol that goes along with the baby cooking along past 40 weeks. Today at 41 weeks 2 days, I hit a couple milestones: my actual last day of work before the baby shows up. Yes it was supposed to be a couple weeks ago, but I'm really quite glad I kept working. Now it's Thanksgiving and if I'm still prego on the 29th you can bet I won't be at work, I'll be regrouping for whatever is coming.

The other thing(s) I had to do today included a biophysical profile - I can't remember if I already explained this, I think I did - and a weekly midwife visit. The BPP went just fine, would've been stellar actually if the doc had kept his goofy looking mouth shut. But instead, he walked in and the first 30 seconds went like this:

"Hi I'm Dr. So and So and just so you know at this point nothing good comes out of being pregnant for this long. I would hate for you to have a healthy baby who ends up either dead or neurodevastated because it stayed in too long."

I seriously wish I was kidding you.

I also wish I was quicker on the fly with my responses...I thought of a whole grand list of expletives to call him. I mean seriously - who SAYS things like that to a pregnant woman except to scare the fire out of her? Like I PLANNED on being in his office today instead of snuggling with my baby at home? 

He at one point made some comment about how most women this point HAVE had their babies...and really, everything about him made me OH SO GRATEFUL that I've chosen to stay out of the high-tech medical model of birth because more than anything really I'm appalled with the notion that women's bodies have no idea what they're doing. If you go past your due date, doctors and the general public INSTANTLY jump to "well, when are you going to be induced?" like that is the normal thing to do. The normal thing to do is WAIT. Not schedule an induction for 4 days after your due date because that's just what your doctor and the rest of the world does. It is maddening how skewed the American view of what is normal in terms of birth has become. 

I called my doula and we called him all sort of nasty names and planned his ultimate demise, and then I was off to the midwife, where I found out, in short, that the baby is just noooot ready. Without getting into the details, there's a positioning issue. Not breach or anything, but, if the baby were in a more conducive spot for laboring, I'd have him or her pretty quick. But, he or she is hanging out kind of inconveniently, so I've been given orders that include lunges, stretching, power walking, and of course a chiropractic adjustment. I'm glad it's the holiday and I can focus all my efforts on getting this baby out. So if Monday rolls around and the baby is STILL cozy coze, we're going to talk about castor oil. 

So yeah - send those prayers and vibes SPECIFICALLY for the baby to scoot into the right position. We need all the help we can get.

brain donation

I swear, people lose their brains around pregnant women. I don't know how many times this week I've heard, "You're still pregnant?" and because I can't be nice for very long I took to saying things like, "oh! *looks down at belly* am I? Weird!" I should probably stay away from my blog right now because I am suuuuper cranky...I had a good cry earlier because we're having a ton of family come in for Thanksgiving this year and I had this whole vision earlier of how it was going to be: sitting on the couch, cooing over the baby, etc. etc. I have to admit I feel silly, and I am not looking forward to the million comments of how I'm still pregnant, and that I should just:

have sex

stimulate your nipples

eat spicy food

go for a walk

go for lots of walks

did you know that having sex stimulates labor?

take herbs orally

get a pedicure

get a massage

try every pressure point on your body

put evening primrose oil caps up your vajayjay

are you walking a lot?

you should get another pedicure

hey have you tried tweaking your nipples?

i mean, you and your hubby should get it on.

The concept of a due date is evil. nobody really knows when conception actually happened, and the whole consequence of "overdue-ness" as a result that is gotten from the general public is dumb. One is overdue past 42 weeks. The end. Saying that someone is "late" is crap. Babies are always on time, and there's nothing wrong with someone just because they've gone past some arbitrary calculation.

I know I have said dumb stuff to pregnant ladies before, but I will definitely be more informed. As a review, let's go down a small list of things that have actually been said to me that are no help at all:

Hey, fatso!

Are you sure you can get up from sitting down there?

You're pregnant? I thought you were just fat! 

Are you effaced or dilated yet? (especially when it's from you know, someone you barely know)

When are you due? I feel like you've been pregnant forever?

The anticipation is killing me! (really? really.)

Have you had your baby yet? You haven't posted anything on facebook.(for the record, we probably won't.)

I know most of it comes from a good place and people are curious and it's not their fault they haven't been through something like this and forgot how to use their brains and everything but wow. There have been complete strangers who have been incredible boosts, and I encourage you (and myself) to take their lead when speaking to an obviously very pregnant woman. Instead of opinions or postulations on gender or whatever, try:

You are so beautiful! (thanks, random lady in the hallway!)
You are so adorable!
You. Glowing. Love it.
That is one lucky baby.
Have you been staying working out this whole pregnancy? Because you look great.
You can do this! Hang in there!
You look amazing!

If I were going to get all therapist on myself (I mean, who can resist) I would recognize that a lot of frustration is a mask for the anxiety and uncertainty I'm feeling. I went to my weekly midwife appointment this past Thursday and we discussed things like biophysical profiles (ultrasound, non-stress tests, kick counts, what have you) to make sure the baby is cooking along just fine and membrane stripping and castor oil for induction. I know that all of that is far better than a pitocin induction, but I can't help but think what if all that stuff doesn't work and I do end up with exactly the opposite of what I have tried to avoid?

It feels very much like the time I was interviewing to go to Spain on a mission trip and there were WEEKS of humming and hawing over whether I would be sent to a state-side project or overseas. It nearly drove me crazy. I WANTED Spain so badly and was convinced that that's where I would be going, but I didn't get my answer from the people deciding until I had an epiphany. Eventually it came down to a church service, where I was basically hit over the head with the fact that it was not about me, it's about God, and He's got it all figured out, so I should chill out. It sounds really flippant to say it like that I guess but in this case it means I have to be okay with going with the flow, and if I get to 42.5 weeks and end up in the hospital hooked up to a pitocin drip, I have to be okay with that too.

Okay. I promise the next post will be back to our regularly scheduled pleasantness.

Happy Halloween!

If you haven't seen at least the first season of Mad Men, let me explain. See, the show is based in the late 50s/early 60s and when i was first prego K and I started watching it and I was FASCINATED not only by how women were treated in general but also by the fact that pregos in that day pretty much daily kicked back all kinds of beverages and smokes. So, when my dear friend Annie decided to throw a Mad Men themed Halloween dinner party, I couldn't resist ;) Don't worry, it's just water and an unlit ciggy.

Wherein I must excuse myself to eat shameful quantities of mangos

The cravings have officially hit, along with stretch marks and cankles. Oh, the glamorous pregnancy life! I am sure that's what Fergie was singing about. It all came down the weekend of kyle's mostly annual company trip. We spent a swank weekend at the W hotel eating delicious foods and catching up. This was the first year that I didn't have to answer, "oh I am still in school," when asked about what I do. Unfortunately, that topic only came up a handful of times because of course as a pregnant woman, people mostly want to talk about barf, babies, and cravings. Not the fabulous dream job or the book that is soon to be published. Oh well, not like nursery decor doesn't make me SQUEEEE! with delight...

Anyway, the hubs was terrifically social this weekend and the last night as we rolled into bed near midnight I looked down to discover a complete lack of ankles for the first time in nine months. Naturally, I burst into tears, lamenting this foreign body that seems to have taken over. K of course reassured me that I was just exhausted and yes, still pretty, fat feet and all.

I never EVER get the pre-packaged fruit at the grocery store 'cos it's generally overpriced and all in plastic and not seasonal but last week I had an insatiable urge to buy some mangos. So I bought the small container, took it home, sat on the back porch while my dog frolicked around in the yard and before I knew it, the fruit was gone. I did it again the next night. And then for three days following that. Stomachache? Mangos. Woke up starving at 5am? Mangos. We are currently out, and it's all I can do to stay patient while I wait for Kyle to rip out the carpet in the bedroom so we can go to the grocery store.

Which, seriously - are there any documented occurrences of husbands getting the nesting urge? 'cos Kyle just impulsively (IMPULSIVELY, people) said, "okay. I'll rip out the carpet." Maybe impulsive isn't exactly right because we've been talking about it for weeks but just before he decided and promptly kicked me out of the bedroom, we were still discussing the pros and cons, and I had grudgingly suggested that maybe we wait 'til Spring so our feet won't be cold.

But hey after 48 hours and literally being on our hands and knees scrubbing the darn thing, it looks kind of awesome:

oh, life.

Hey! So, me & the babe are 35 weeks today and really, I haven't been posting much lately because nothing super exciting has been going on...or maybe it's a matter of perspective.

We're nearly done with the bathroom renovations...as of today we have tile on the floor and in the shower, and the cabinets are in! Now all they to put in is the glass for the shower, the toilet, the sink/countertop, the lights, the mirror, and the fixtures. The big stuff is done though, and wow I can't wait to move back into our bedroom! We decided to get some grownup furniture, which means shopping for bed linens! I'm also really excited to move back into and start tricking out my craft room. You know, in all my extra spare time ;)

Work is the same incredible rollercoaster it always is. I'm astounded at how much I have learned, grown, stretched in the last almost year...speaking of work, I was having a tough time deciding what I could and could not post about on here, so I'm throwing the idea of having a separate music therapy blog around...except, there are tons of wonderful MT blogs out there and I'm wondering if what I have to say is any different than what others have to say. I don't know. We'll see. At any rate, it turns out I'll have a shorter leave than I expected (note to any working mom out there: make sure you will have been at a company for at least a year before deciding to get pregnant. It will save you an insane amount of headaches.) and we're currently trying to figure out childcare. We're leaning toward us doing as much as we can with the help of family, and eventually a nanny. That's yet another thing that's up in the air and it's...not easy to decide. What has been easy is the firm decision to go back to work. I've worked waaaaay too hard to get here to give this thing up. "But what about your KID and someone else raising your CHILD and it's different than you would DO it etc etc etc" yeah yeah, that's a can of worms I am not willing to open up. To each woman/family her/their own decision. Neither reason is the "right" one. This is what is good for us right now and in the wise words of Mr. Tim Gunn we're going to "make it work!"

I know I haven't talked much about this, but turns out I'll be a published author and become a mom all in the same month! Once it's all done I'll let y'all in on what my colleague/mentor/friend and I have been working on for the last few months.

I think our dog Jake senses that there's a disturbance in the force...he's totally off his morning/afternoon walk ritual (or rather, we're off it), we've moved him from the kitch to the living room because of the renovator guys coming in and out every day, and there's all these changes going on at the house. Needless to say he's been a complete and utter spaz for the last few weeks. I've stopped counting how many times he has escaped from our back yard lately, including the one time he vaulted himself OVER a 5 1/2 foot section of our fence from our back porch. That was quite an incredible sight. Thankfully there are lots of squirrels, cats, and bunnies for him to chase so if he's gone 15 minutes or an hour, he's never very far.

So back to the pregnancy thing, I'm sure nobody is surprised to hear that I still throw up every once in awhile. Friday afternoon I went from laughing to coughing to vom-ing all over the parking garage (and my pants...and my shoes...) in like 10 seconds. That's the first time it's snuck up on me like that and I'm really quite glad I wasn't inside the hospital. The last time I WAS in the hospital and had to puke it was because I really had to pee and someone had done something horrific in the toilet I was going to go in, and I was SUPER PISSED because I had just had my favorite pizza for lunch. FLUSH, PEOPLE. UGH.

Sometimes I vom in the morning and am done with it for the rest of the day..sometimes, not so lucky. I definitely sleep with a bottle of tums by my bed. I honestly have no clue why I'm still barfing.Maybe it's the reflux, maybe it's my diet...all things I'm messing with. in fact, I need to go juice some kale and apples today while I'm thinking about it, because one theory is that it's tied to how much iron I've got in my body. At any rate, am I glad that come Thanksgiving I'll be on my way back to my normal self? 

Hell. Yes.

speechless...

Yesterday was October 1st. I went to the UT Co-op, then to the Container Store, where someone asked me, "When's your baby due?" I answered in my usual "Oh, middle of November."

As I was walking out of the store I realized I could have said, "Oh, next month."

That's like, TOMORROW. 

week 32 update

I've started going to the midwife every 2 weeks (!!!) and everything looks great - she could feel the baby is in a good position (if you're me, head is down, back is to the left, pointing to the right) which explains why I feel way more movement on the right side. Numbers-wise, I've gained 28 pounds total so far, and she did a blood test last visit and my glucose levels are good, and she said that I'm not anemic but am on the low side of normal for iron (which would partly explain why I've been so exhausted lately) so she suggested adding spirulina, chlorophyll (you can find these two things in the Odwalla or Naked Super Food drinks), more dark leafy greens, beans, and of course red meat...I'm thinking cheeseburgers and mashed sweet potatoes with kale for dinner sounds about right :) The best part about seeing a midwife is that we spent an hour talking about health, diet, exercise, labor preparation, and whatever else I could think of. I asked her about how many weeks past a woman's due date she's comfortable with before doing any sort of "induction" (evening primrose oil, stripping membranes, castor oil, etc) and she said that she'll go 42 weeks and then call her backup OB for his input. Mostly she just said that babies show up when they're ready and if someone got the dates wrong or it's just not time yet the best thing to do is be patient. In life in general, if the baby's like Kyle it'll be early and if it's like me, it'll be late. Maybe we'll compromise on somewhere in the middle ;)

My doula came over to our house last Sunday to chat with Kyle and I about what a typical birth progression looks like, what we can expect, and what her role will be - which is supporting the two of us, explaining what is normal, helping Kyle support me in the best way possible, and most importantly being there at our house early in the labor process before we go to the birth center. We also discussed worst case scenario options, which hopefully we won't have to worry about but if for any reason we have to transfer to a hospital with my midwife's backup OB/GYN, she'll be yet another advocate for whatever-is-good-for-the-baby-with-least-amount-of-interventions.  

Aaaand the bathroom remodel started this week, as if we didn't have a million other things going on. Coming home every day to see the progress is really cool - and makes me really REALLY grateful we've decided to get contractors and not try to DIY this sucker.

more on the name debate...

overheard in the sleepy morning hours: 

K: "I found another name I like."

C: "Like, for real this time?"
K: "Yes. Emmett."

C: "As in, Smith?"
K: "Noooo...as in Brown! Doc from Back to the Future?"

"Apparently it's also a Twilight character..."

*****

In other news, life and work are good...I'm getting better every day at the balancing act. Today I'm supposed to be going to a conference called Understanding the Needs of the Dying. I'm all registered up and can't seem to get motivated. I think it's because there haven't been many days lately where I get to choose to sit and just be. Let the crafting, yoga, swimming, decorating, organizing, cleaning obligations wait while I idle a day away with my thoughts and maybe a journal or a musical instrument. We got to do a little of this life-enjoying with some friends in Tulsa a few weekends ago and it was glorious. No need to rush to be anywhere, just chat, swim, walk, nap, enjoy each other's company.

I picked up my journal from over a year ago and wow am I a busy individual. I was at once starting a new job, finishing my thesis, and training for a triathlon. The thought right there makes me want to hide under the covers for a week. I am learning to slow down and enjoy more. At first it wasn't a lesson I welcomed but now I bask in the gloriousness of it.

Of course, I still have obligations to fulfill but I'm learning that it's okay to be a little selfish, to say no. My professional life requires me to give all day every day. Me time is not a luxury but a necessity.

30 Weeks?!

On Friday I had an appointment with my midwife which was kind of like a party because my doula was there. It was the first time she and my midwife had officially met and they had such a wonderful instant rapport that it put me at ease, made me confident in the choices K and I have made concerning prenatal care. There was such a strong energy of love, respect, and strength in that exam room that was almost tangible, and I left my appointment grinning. I've now gotten to the point where I'll be checking in with my midwife every 2 weeks! Seriously I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around how we got here.

In terms of the books I've been reading (besides Mockingjay duh) I've moved on to Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Breast Feeding, which I've learned a lot from. Part of the reason we chose the less-medicalized birth route is how important I believe breastfeeding to be and the desire to stay away from interventions that have been shown to hinder the process (induction, C-Section, whisking the baby away immediately after birth, etc.). This is another topic that people are really passionate about and that women have a ton of baggage associated with it - whether or not they felt supported or successful as breastfeeding mothers is HUGE, and people are NOT afraid to share. I grew up in a family where yes modesty is valued but of greater importance is being comfortable with your body. Plus, my mom is one of those militant Breast is Best freedom fighters, and was adamant about breastfeeding all of her children...the first two of which were born when it wasn't all that popular in her family (except, she was in California and a hippie, so she did it anyway).

The other book I'm really excited about is a book called Mother Rising that talks about American culture's lack of ceremony regarding rites of passage...lack isn't the right word exactly, but...I guess the superficiality of them. I got to thinking about my rites of passage...I didn't have a quincinera, although my grandmother was a HUGE proponent. I was a debutante though, and as much as I get made fun of for it, the benefits of that program and the friendships I've gained have been far-reaching. Even last month I had to call upon the gracious girly skills to participate in a luncheon with the individuals who fund several music projects where I work, including the music therapy program. I definitely see that time in my life as a turning point toward adulthood. 

Then in college there are various rites of trial and passage - auditions to various ensembles, inductions into sororities, graduation, etc. The one I have a special place in my heart for is my pledge class's induction into SAI. It was a little different than it had been done before, but the words, quotes, and songs from that ceremony have stuck with me since 2001 because they so eloquently express how I feel about love and music.

Sorry, tangent. Basically how this relates to becoming a mom is that baby showers sort of are like rites of passage, but generally speaking there is not a ritual in American culture where a mother to be sits around with the women who she has been strengthened by her whole life for a time to gain wisdom about the passage into motherhood and a time for the momma to be to be strengthened and pampered. Different people call these different things - sometimes a blessingway or a mother blessing. All I know is it's going to involve strong women, good bonding time, good music, and uplifting words, and hopefully it's something that my girlfriends and I keep going as we each become mommas.

In baby room news, well...mostly I guess I should label this a house update because there's a bunch of crazy stuff going down in the casa. First off, since we don't have enough going on in life right now we've decided to renovate the oompa loompa master bathroom. Not expand it, just work with the existing framework and upgrade/streamline it a bit. The final plans are in, and a guy is coming out Wednesday to take measurements for the cabinets. What that means is that we've gotta move out of our bathroom/bedroom in the next week.  

That in turn translates to the mother of all purges and rearranges this house has ever seen. 

This morning saw the cleaning out and re-purposing of the front hall closet. I'm still dreaming of the day when Kyle will have his own beer brewing station out in the garage, but for now I can deal with the plethora of empty beer bottles. He even found some unopened brew from couple years ago and yelled "Jackpot!" They're in the fridge - I'll let you know how they turn out.

The verbosity of this post is entirely because I'm taking a break from moving all my stuff out of my closet/side of the dresser into the baby room closet, packing up and sorting through the clothes that no longer fit me or are no longer my style (total bags/boxes to Goodwill or Half Price Books today alone: 7) It feels ridiculous good to be doing this, the clearing out of the old to make way for the new. Phew. Okay. Back to work!

UPDATE: The beer is delicious. I know you were all on the edge of your seats.

ahhhhh...sleep!

I'm sleeping better, thank goodness, and I'm also at 28 weeks, which I think officially puts me in my 3rd trimester. Crazy town. I'm getting really excited - I want to know what the kid looks like, if it's a boy or a girl, and am really REALLY ready to not have to answer the "do you have any weird cravings?" question for a really, really long time.

Back to the sleep issue, I don't know if I wrote about this already but I got a Snoogle from my friend Kyna that has quite literally saved my sanity. That, and I got some earplugs 'cos a) Kyle snores like a freight train and b) increased momma hormones = waking up to EVERY. LITTLE. SOUND. so instead of smothering my darling husband every night with a pillow, I've been snoozing like a rock star. Also, I've become one with the excuse to get in bed at 8:30. That has meant cutting down on some extracurricular activities during the week, but the payoff has been so worth it.

We've started working on the kid's room - we've got a crib, rocking chair, even some paint tests on the walls! I'm converting a couple pieces of furniture that we already have to function as baby furniture so we don't have to buy new stuff. 

 We refinished an old armoire of Kyle's parent's like...5 or 6 years ago...and turned it into a TV cabinet. Well, we got a new TV so now the cabinet is going to be fitted with a closet bar and made into a baby closet. The colors we'd painted it so many years ago even fit with the decor.  I was delighted when I opened my Martha Stewart Homekeeping Handbook and there's a little section on how to convert an armoire into a baby storage closet. Further proof that me and Martha are soulmates.

My second project is turning our dresser into a changing table. The plan is to sand/paint the top of it, add some stencils to the drawers, and exchange the hardware. There's a ton of storage in this piece of furniture and I'm excited to get going on this. I'll get pics up soon, I promise.

grrrrr

I have been a super cranky pants lately, and considering I passed out at 7pm last night, I'm going to go ahead and admit that I just flat need more sleep. I want to be more giddy about this whole life-creating thing going on, but right now it seems to take waaaay more effort than I can spare. Ugh, I sould like Eeyore! This weekend we're going to Austin...perhaps I can score an end-of-summer sno cone to make it all better :)