The First Six Weeks

Six weeks ago today, I was in labor. It was snowing, and I refused to believe I would actually have to be out in that nastiness on my way to deliver. And yet... here we are.


Things I have learned over the past six weeks include...


During Delivery

• People will come in and out of your room without announcing their presence
• People will be all up in your va-jay-jay without introducing themselves
• People will continue to ask you questions even though you do not have the presence of mind to attend to them AND to the labor contractions... and you're more likely to attend to the latter

After Birth

• Despite being SO incredibly tired, you might just not be able to sleep for the excitement of meeting this little person you've been waiting to cuddle
• You might not get many visitors... and that's okay
• ...and if it's not okay, if you had your baby at the hospital, there are plenty of staff to be in and out of your room all day and night

Coming Home

• By the third child, it feels like that baby was always there; you just have to reconsider sleeping arrangements
• Your newbie's siblings may fall instantly in love... or they might willfully ignore the fact that the n00b is here
• Your eldest might tell the (now) middle child that she loves the baby more than him
• The (now) middle child might tell you that he wishes the baby would die
• You might cry because of these things

The First Two Weeks

• ...well, they absolutely still suck. Even though baby #3 feels totally like he's always been there, the adjustment to poor sleep and frequent feedings takes a lot out of you
• ...and a lot out of your partner, who is picking up the slack around the house for everything else you can't do now that nearly 100% of your time involves having an infant hanging off your breast or being up to your elbows in mustardy-poop
• You are likely to have less patience with each other, and with your other kids
• You might decide it's best to have daddy sleep elsewhere in the house so he can get a good night's sleep and not be the devil-parent (someone has to be nice, at least)
• You might really miss each other
• Your breasts hurt like a sonofabitch - you realize you forgot that the "natural" breastfeeding isn't exactly, like, naturally easy to do
• You might have experienced engorgement, a lump, and the desperation of trying to keep baby awake long enough during a feeding to squeeze out that painful milk backlog
• Your partner may offer an ice cube to wake up baby, and it becomes a running joke ("Want an ice cube?")

The Second Two Weeks (weeks 3 and 4)

• Ah, adjustment! You are finding your groove
• You discover this growing person also has a little personality
• You understand his language, know his sleepy cry from his hungry cry, and his likes and dislikes
• He likes, for example, to be near you - and has started to coo when you talk to him
• He can see a teeny bit farther and knows which blurry blobs are his parents and siblings
• You may feel adventurous enough to go on outings
• Your breasts are starting to feel semi-normal again... except that they are at least twice the size they used to be and you can't wear many of your "regular" shirts
• Your maternity pants are too big, and your regular pants are too small.... ah, sweatpants will do (preferably with drawstring)

The Third Two Weeks (weeks 5 and 6)

• My word, he smiled at you! The real kind, not the gassy kind
• And thank goodness he smiles and is so cute, or otherwise you'd probably hate him because he's decided to eat and sleep on some crazy new schedule you haven't figured out yet
• And you realize that his love of cuddling with you extends now to only sleeping when you are holding him, and that he wakes when you put him down
• You'd really like to go pee without bringing the baby along
• Or eat lunch without worrying about dropping food on him while he dozes in your lap
• Oh, and you have to go back to work next Monday, which reminds you that you need to pump
• And your partner isn't back in your bed yet because nobody trusts that this baby is going to sleep in his own space without disturbing the whole house
• But at least the (now) middle child has warmed up enough that he kisses baby goodnight
• And you might have figured out that he needs to sleep on your dirty clothes in the crib to have your smell on him
• And despite all of this, you're still sad that the convalescent-getting-to-know-you time is almost over already

So we're on the eve of his 6 weeks birthday. And I am both extremely happy and terribly sad, as patient as a saint and as frustrated as humanly tolerable, alert and exhausted. This is motherhood.

"Get Out" - T's Birth Story

This is the story of our little monster-baby, T, and his arrival to "the outside."


Wednesday, 4 March
I rescheduled my 40-week appointment to today (one day earlier than originally planned) because of the threat of snow. Like, a lot. They were saying 6-12 inches. I pretty much knew school would be canceled, and if they closed the clinic, my appointment would be canceled. So, I wanted to be seen. I had a membrane sweep done. This was against Hubby's better judgment. Maybe I should have listened, but then again... maybe it was for the best that I just went for it. I was 3cm (and could stretch to 4 cm) dilated, but not effaced. Went on about my business.


Thursday, 5 March
This was quite a day, so I'll break it down into a timeline.

• 2:30am - Was awakened by a painful contraction. But, it was alone, so I went back to sleep.
• 10:00am - Started having more contractions. Or, at least, I noticed I was having more. Downloaded an app on my phone to track them. They were ranging from 30-60 seconds in length, and were all over the place in terms of interval. Seven minutes, then 15 minutes, then 5 minutes, then 20 minutes apart. Also, they weren't painful or seeming to grow more consistent.
• Mid-day - Convinced by a friend's Facebook post that I, too, was having "prodromal labor," I continued timing these inconsistent contractions, not realizing they were doing something. Hubby was convinced we needed to at least alert people that "stuff" was happening.
• 4:15pm - Snow was everywhere. We had gotten about 7 inches by this time. We let the neighbors know we might have to go to the hospital, but I was still not 100% sure. However, I had another painful contraction at this point.
• 7:00pm - Hubs realizes we only have a quarter tank of gas and decides to see if he can creep to the nearest gas station on the un-plowed roads. Turns out, only our neighborhood was not plowed. The adjacent streets are snow emergency routes and are (relatively) clear. They'd been plowed before the snow had stopped, so there was still a bit of a mess to deal with. He gassed up the car and came back home.
• 7:45pm - Kids' bedtime routine, and I was still able to give baths and read a bedtime story, but was decidedly more aware of the contractions. They were getting into a more regular interval (between 5-7 minutes apart) and growing a little more painful.
• 8:45pm - Watching TV with the Hubs, and I got one of those contractions that made me get off the couch and hug the ottoman. Hubs was not exactly pleased, and he asked more directly if we needed to go to the hospital now. I was like, "Uh... I don't know. No?"
• 9:30pm - Hubs and I head to bed. He jokes, "Maybe I should sleep in my clothes." Then, he asked me, "So, exactly how close should they be before we go to the hospital?" I momentarily suffer from amnesia and tell him (between contractions) to Google it. By this point, they are lasting from about 45-60 seconds and are about 2-3 minutes apart.
• 10:00pm - Hubs calls Labor and Delivery to let them know what's up and to find out if they are on deferral (and if we need to go to a different hospital). When they ask about my contractions, the on-call nurse says, "Uh, you should have left already." Got the stink-eye from Hubs. He texts our neighbor to ask her to come spend the night with the kids. She doesn't respond, so he heads over to their house and gets his feet wet in the snow because it came over his shoes.
• 10:05pm - Neighbor arrives, Hubs changes shoes, and we go.
• 10:30pm - Arrive to hospital. I am wheeled (in a wheelchair) to L&D because walking has begun to make me angry. Plus, I wasn't sure I would make it down the long hallways to get to L&D without having to stop every few feet to contract.
• 11:00pm - I am checked, baby's HR is good, my contractions are monitored, and I am dilated somewhere between 4-5 cm and effacing (but not totally there yet). I'm asked whether I want to be admitted at first, and then encouraged to be admitted but to walk around. But I won't be allowed to leave the room for some kind of liability reasons, so it's just walk around the room. I groan, probably from a contraction, but also probably from bureaucracy.
• Sometime before midnight - I am given a room and connected to monitors again. I hate continuous monitoring. Hate it.

Friday, 6 March
Most of these times are estimates. I only know for sure the last time listed. I was a little too busy to attend to the clock much on the rest.

• A little after midnight - I alert Hubs to the monitor screen and show him "TOCO." When TOCO goes up, I go berserk. TOCO is monitoring the contractions. When it is around 20, I'm okay. When it goes up above 50, I am unhappy. TOCO was pinging 100+ by now.
• 12:45am - The anesthesiologist shows up to get my consent for epidural and general anesthesia if needed. I humor him a little, but I let him know I had no intention of having any meds. He's persistent, however, so I hold up my "wait" finger during a particularly owwie contraction. I want to hold up a different finger. Hubs knows it. He is smiling behind eager anesthesiologist's back. Finally, I am able to scrawl some semblance of a signature on the "just in case" form.
• 1:15am - TOCO is going over 200 now. And it gets back to maybe 50 before going up again. I'm not getting a break anymore. The nurses are in awe (apparently, and according to Hubs) because I'm coping like a champ. A crowd gathers. They expect it will be any time now. But... it's not happening fast enough, and I can see people starting to leave after a few minutes. I get discouraged but can't really share my feelings.
• 1:45am - They get me on my back (which I hate) to check me. The OB on duty asks, "If I can get to it, do you want me to break your water?" I think I say yes. In my head, I say yes. Bad news, though... meconium in the water. My risk level just went up.
• 1:50am - I am allowed to be on my hands and knees. Grateful for the position change, I now feel like it's push time. And I start to push. And, oops! Poop. I apologize, but everyone says not to worry and keep doing my thing.
• 2:00am - Baby's HR is dropping to the 120s during contractions now. People are unhappy with that. They want me to roll back over on my back and start grabbing my legs. So, I do. And, oops! Poop again. I am screaming "Get OUUUT" at this point. I'm not sure why he hasn't been born yet. It should be easy with the third, right?
• 2:05am - Feels like I've been pushing forever. But it's only been a few times. They've put me on oxygen by now (might have happened a little bit before now). The OB says she needs to get out the vacuum. Baby needs out.
• 2:10am - The vacuum going in has a certain "wrong direction-ness" to it that I can't explain. Everything in me is like, "Nope. This is ebb tide, y'all. No swimming to shore." I think I protest about this somehow, but I might be sounding like a blithering idiot at this point. I'm not exactly lucid. I haven't opened my eyes in the last ten minutes at least. It's too much stimulation.
• 2:15am - I'm pushing, and pushing, and pushing. They fuss because I keep grunting during my pushes, when I should be holding my breath and using all the musculature in my body to get the baby out. I finally manage to get three or four in a row without grunting.
• 2:17am - He's out. Along with lots of shit-water. Hubs is grossed out. He says the boy is a "literal shithead" because his own fecal matter is all up in his hair. And he's pretty much brown all over.... until they clean him off.

It felt like forever, that they had him, working on him and helping him breathe. He cried when he emerged, but it was a sputter. They were concerned he may have aspirated the meconium, which can lead to a serious lung infection. They did suction, then deep suction. "Neonatal resuscitation" is on his chart. His APGAR scores were 6/8 because of low HR, poor color, poor motor response, and something else I can't quite recall.


When I finally got him (which was only like 20-30 minutes later, but it felt like FOREVER), he immediately latched like a champ and nursed. I still had no stats on this boy other than the time of his birth. I kept asking and no one was listening. After I'd been stitched up (because a vacuum-assisted birth does a real number on the nether regions), I was assisted to the bathroom. The nurse who took baby T from me said she'd weigh him. She and a resident commented that he felt like an eight-pound-eight-ounce baby. While I was in the bathroom, Hubs hollered in, "So... remember how they said 8 lbs, 8 oz??" I was like, yeah. "Well, how 'bout more like, 9 lbs, 9 oz." My jaw dropped. T is officially 1.5 lbs bigger than his brother, who was 1.5 lbs bigger than our girl. If we kept going, we'd have an 11-pounder next time! Regarding length, still not accurate information. We are going with 20 inches because the resident who attempted to measure him said, "He's wiggly, but we'll call this 20 inches." He was 20.5" at his appointment 3 days later, so we're really not sure. Maybe this is a difference between first-child and subsequent-children? I might care more about really knowing this information, but I also might not. He's perfect. So who cares?


He had to be "stuck" a bunch of times because they were concerned about diabetes. His blood sugar was 46, 47, 55, and 49 on each of his four fasting glucose tests (his poor little heels!!) - and it had to be above 45 for him to get the green light. So, he passed. Pediatricians checked out his lungs several times. He passed his newborn audiology test. He threw up a bloody mess, and I got freaked out, but it turns out this is normal for babies to ingest some of the blood of delivery. Gross, right?


Anyway, this baby boy is amazing. He sleeps well during the day, and sometimes also at night. He loves to cuddle. He is quiet and doesn't really make much fuss. He hates a wet diaper but doesn't seem to care about a poopy one. He would rather sleep with me than in his bassinet, but I don't sleep when he's in bed with me. I've probably been feeding him 3-4 times a night, with cluster feeding at the front-end (for like 2 straight hours, from 10-midnight). Hubs has been sleeping on the couch so he can be a better dad to the other two, who are handling new siblinghood in their own special ways. Took J about 3 days to decide he would hold his brother. Took E about 5 seconds upon walking into my hospital room to ask if she could hold him. They are not the same kid after all.


He looks like a mash-up of both of them. Lips like sister, eyes like brother. Stork bite like sister, quiet calmness like brother. He is exactly the baby we need during this very stressful time in our lives!!

T, at 9 days of age

Kick-starting Labor

39 Weeks, 2 Days
Watermelon


Wow, I'm feeling large. And sore. To elucidate the situation (graphically), I feel as though my pelvis is being ripped apart at the pubic bone. This is rather new, as I do not recall such a sensation in past pregnancies. I expect it's some combination of baby "dropping" into my pelvis more, and old age. My firstborn was already 2 days old by this stage of the game, so I can definitely say that any time the boy wishes to arrive, I'm totally down with that. This brings me to the topic of today: How to start labor "spontaneously."


So, there are lots of wives tales and legends about how to best kick-start labor. Science has weighed in on some of these, and I must fully disclose that results tend to be right around the coin-flip with a large margin of error. In non-science speak, that means basically that you can try it or not, and it may pretty much all come out in the wash. Break even. Be no different at all, had you NOT done any of these tricks. Now, what science hasn't done is verify what might happen to a person who tries ALL of these things. Let's see what they are.

• Spicy Food. Chowing down on some jalapeños have achieved legendary status with regard to stimulating labor. Here's the thing... the stomach is not the uterus. People do it anyway, and maybe it's just good self-care to enjoy some awesome Mexican food (if that's your thing). There's not any solid proof that spicing up your diet will entice your child to GTFO.
• Nipple Stimulation. Go ahead... rub those babies. It stimulates the release of the naturally-occurring hormone oxytocin. Sounds a lot like "Pitocin" doesn't it? That's because Pitocin, the drug used in hospitals to induce labor, is an artificial version of oxytocin, only less fun for you. But be prepared for a commitment to nip-flicking. In one study, moms who stimulated their nipples for ONE TO THREE HOURS DAILY were more likely to spontaneously go into labor than those who didn't.
• Sex. Coitus. Intercourse. Doing the dirty releases hormones (prostaglandins) that may kick-start contractions. It's important that your partner ejaculates inside the vagina for the prostaglandin release and to help soften the cervix. In addition, if mama orgasms, it could also get the uterus to contract. Emphasis on "could." Important: Do not try this if your water has already broken, or you have been advised against sexual activity by your healthcare provider.
• Castor Oil. Remember old cartoons with Henny Penny? She tried to get all her friends to help her work in her corn field, and they all had bellyache and couldn't help... until it was time to eat the corn and they were all about it then. But Henny Penny gave them Castor Oil instead... y'know, to cure that ol' pesky bellyache. So, supposedly this also stimulates the onset of labor by releasing prostaglandin. In actuality, it stimulates your bowels to have some explosive diarrhea. Which could dehydrate you. And also, there's not any evidence to suggest that your bowels rumbling while being next to the uterus will spontaneously cause the uterus to contract.
• Evening Primrose Oil. I haven't heard of this one, but supposedly this herbal acts similarly in the body as other prostaglandin-agonists (i.e., things that make the hormone prostaglandin get active). Thus, it could potentially soften the cervix and get you ready for action. More science needed to back this one up.
• Red Raspberry Tea. The real, red raspberry leaves are used to make this tea. Not black tea flavored like raspberries. Supposedly, this tea reduces uterine "irritability" and helps contractions be more effective. It can also help to ripen the cervix for dilation and effacement, thus making labor onset occur faster.
• Foot Massage. Shiatsu massage therapists have identified several acupressure points (including on the feet) that have been known to start labor. But the jury's still out on this one. Some massage therapists absolutely will not use acupressure unless you're already in labor (to help speed it along).
• Membrane Sweeping. Also known as membrane stripping, stretch-and-sweep, or maternal masochism. It hurts. I'm not going to lie. Essentially, your healthcare provider may use this trick to help release the amniotic sac from your cervix by taking her gloved hand, shoving it up your cooch, and running a couple fingers around your cervix in a circular motion to begin to separate the mucus plug and open 'er up. Your provider won't try this before 38 weeks, to ensure the baby is well-developed enough for the outside world first. But, some women experience natural labor onset within hours-to-days after having this procedure done.
• Acupuncture. This has been done in several Asian cultures for many generations, and they swear by it. Only one small study has been conducted in the US, but with pretty positive results. Women who received acupuncture between 39.5-41 weeks gestation were more likely to go into labor without medical intervention and were less likely to have cesareans than their "un-stuck" counterparts. More science needed to back up the claims, but this looks legit so far.
• Exercise. Specifically, taking a walk is supposed to help with labor. The claims are pretty thin on this one. One thing it can do, however, is help you distinguish between progressive first-stage labor and Braxton-Hicks contractions. If you go for a walk and your contractions get stronger and closer together, it's the real deal. If they go away or become irregular and aren't painful, it's the BH kind.

Have you heard of any other "tricks" to try?

Minivan People

39 Weeks, 2 Days
Swiss Chard, or Watermelon
It had to happen. We have been sort of in denial that this baby is coming. Not in the, "I refuse to accept this is happening," sense of denial. More like the, "We still have time," type of denial. But here we are, less than 3 weeks away from the due date, which means we will very soon be in the "window" for delivery. Actually, at my last checkup, I was unceremoniously informed, "If labor were to start now, we wouldn't stop it."


So, what had to happen? This:

Sweet Ride

Yep. We're minivan people now.


Suffice it to say, if we ever were prideful about the type of car we drove, we swallowed it right quickly. We needed to be able to transport our entire family (including the yet unborn), and now we have the means to do so. Other than this, however, our level of preparedness is still shockingly low. We buy diapers here and there (when I have a coupon). We are cognizant of the fact that we need to wash some baby clothes, but haven't yet done so. I haven't packed a bag yet. For me or for the baby. We did, however, manage to arrange child care for the siblings. So, if I were to go into labor soon, we'd have no problem with kid coverage.


However, the Hubs has told me that we're not taking the new minivan to the hospital. Just in case we don't make it there in time. "No way are you ruining the leather in that brand new car," he said. Ha! Pride.

Week 36: Vaccination and the Can of Worms

36 Weeks
Romaine Lettuce


Wowza, what acrobatics this boy seems able to still manage in this ever-shrinking space between my ribs and pelvis! My abdomen contorts into the most unusual of shapes. As one can imagine, the sensation of my internal organs being shifted around feels less than pleasant. Hard to believe I'm a mere 28 days from the due date (which means, I could be as little as 14 days away from his arrival - barring any catastrophe). His number one job is to get chubby. He's gaining an ounce per day. He's probably about 18 inches long, maybe more. No wonder the jabs I'm getting from the inside feels so much more painful!


So, in keeping with the current, lots of new debates have sprung up over vaccinations vs. not, or on delayed schedule with some selecting-out of specific vaccines. Most of the new debates stem from the rising outbreak of the measles, a highly communicable disease that had all but been completely wiped out from the U.S. until a few years ago. First, there were one or two cases, then a few more. We're in the triple digits of new cases, which is unheard of for a disease that had supposedly been eradicated through vaccine use.


I posted something earlier today that captures pretty much how I feel about vaccinating. It follows below.

This is long. I'm sorry in advance.

I expose myself daily to the threat of death by motor vehicle accident every time I get into a car (and, in MD/NoVA/DC...I'm pretty sure the risk is higher). I also know that, despite the fact that we entrusted people who manufacture airbags in cars, I might get seriously injured by an airbag in the event of a crash (and it has recently been exposed that the #1 manufacturer of airbags has royally screwed up). I also know that my ribs might be broken if I wear a seatbelt. Regardless of these possible issues, I know that wearing a seatbelt and keeping my airbags turned on will SAVE MY LIFE if I get nailed by someone while driving on the beltway. So I do it. I do it with the expectation that the decisions of another driver put me at greater risk if I fail to protect myself from them.

I look at vaccinations the same way. I trust the science behind the diseases that are highly communicable and have been nearly eradicated from the planet, save for the few who have chosen (for whatever reason - personal, religious, medical vulnerability, or other reasons) not to vaccinate. The same science that tells me that I am 95-99% safe from acquiring a disease with potentially lethal health outcomes IF I vaccinate. Yes, I question the FDA. I know drugs get approved for reasons other than safety or public health concern. It's political, too. But, when something has been independently researched using dollars that did NOT come from any pharmaceutical company NUMEROUS times, nearly all yielding the same or similar results, I do not question the safety of the vaccines over the level of risk I am taking to go without.

I grew up in a world where there was no varicella vaccine. I had to have the chickenpox. Did I go blind? No. Did my fever fry my brain? No. Do I have scars? A few. Was I effing MISERABLE? Yes. So...I can give my child a shot that will hurt for a few seconds and keep them from being miserable AND keep them from having to deal with shingles later in life (1 in 3 people who had chickenpox go on to get shingles - so it's like the gift that keeps on giving - yay). Yeah, I'm on the side of preventing unnecessary suffering for my babies that will last into their old age. And it hasn't even been around long enough to have been critically evaluated by independent research on NEARLY the level as numerous other vaccines that have been around longer. I do it anyway. I've never had mumps, measles, or rubella. I wouldn't wish any of them on my worst enemy, so I damn sure won't risk my kids getting them. And because I know pertussis can kill babies, I got my TDap shot at 28 weeks of pregnancy because it will start my unborn's antibodies to build up and protect him until he can get his own vaccination at 6 months. Yes, I vaccinate.

I know that if I choose to take my vaccinated children to Disneyland someday, they will not expose the unvaccinated children with terminal illnesses who are there with Make-a-Wish Foundation, getting their wish to meet Cinderella. I also know that the decisions of others around me (again, for whatever reasons they may have), can potentially affect me or my children (just like the other drivers on the beltway). So I will do my utmost to inoculate my kids (and myself) against communicable disease (to get my 95% effective rate) and stay as far away from exposed individuals as possible, whenever possible, to aim for 100%.

Because, unlike choosing not to wear a seatbelt while driving in one's own car, choosing not to vaccinate could hurt someone else.

Midweek Update

35 Weeks, 4 Days
Still a bit like a Honeydew
Went to labor and delivery for a tour, and feel reasonably confident that I can have somewhat the birth I want. What made it better was I swung by the midwife's to check and see about getting some information on safely flipping a breech, and she offered a quick scan to see what's up with the dude. So... she asked me first where I thought he was. And I said, "Well, I think I feel a leg up here today," (and rubbed the top of my belly. She asked, "So, where's the head?" And I said I wasn't sure because I'd felt him being kind of sideways a couple times. So... she did an external exam and said, "I think it's here [indicating just above my pubic bone] - let's look!" And there was a round little noggin down there!! So, I don't have to do headstands off the couch or get in the pool to go upside down. Life is good. Now, here's hoping he stays put for a couple more weeks at least!!!

Sleep, You Slippery Eel

35 Weeks
Honeydew Melon
Little dude is now about 5.5 lbs. and 18 inches long (crown to heel). My concern about him still being head-up has been mitigated by lots of support from friends and my midwife. I've been doing some exercises, and there is the possibility of an external version at 37 weeks (so, basically, right after my next appointment). I'll also have to have a Group B Strep (GBS) screen at the next appointment so they can determine if I'll need antibiotics during labor and birth.


Sleep is elusive at this point. Not because I'm not tired... I am SO tired. It's not as bad as the first trimester, when everything was ridiculously exhausting. However, by the end of the day, I'm beat. Hubby says he will just pretend I have the flu so he won't be surprised at how frequently he finds me taking rest breaks on the couch.


The infuriating thing is that most websites talk about how getting good sleep now is very important because of the certain deprivation I'll have in a few short weeks. They, of course, say nothing about why a woman at this stage of pregnancy might wake up from a dead sleep at 3 AM for no reason. No, the baby is not wiggling around. No, I'm not about to pee myself. No, I wasn't uncomfortable. Just.... awake. I believe it to be training for what will surely come later. But it still makes me mad because I already know what will come later. I just want to sleep now, while I still can.


Five weeks to go (more or less).

Ready or Not...

34 Weeks, 2 Days
Cantaloupe or Honeydew Melon


At somewhere between four and five pounds, and about 17-18 inches in length, my little dude is nearing full term. We're under six weeks out from the due date. His survivability outside the womb is steadily climbing every day, and we are now to the point where, if he were born today, he might spend a few days in a NICU but be otherwise healthy and have no differences in the long run from other kids who were born full term.


While this is such an amazing relief, and a great thing, I realize that I am not ready. We currently have no vehicle that can accommodate three children. We have no sleeping space set up for the baby. I have not packed a bag. We have no diapers or wipes. I have yet to locate my nursing bras and breast pads. I have no burp cloths. I haven't gotten out any baby clothes (or washed them). I haven't even done the tour of the Labor & Delivery unit at the hospital where I'll be delivering.


Part of the reason is the mentality that we've done this before, not our first rodeo, it's old hat, etc. Maybe we're just not worried about it. Part of the reason, however, is that I have simply been far too busy in the other areas of my life to sit down and prepare. I just asked my neighbor TODAY if she could cover down on my other two kids until my mother-in-law could get to us and watch them.


I'm still worried that he won't turn in time to deliver. I'm pretty sure his head is up here under my ribs. I'm pretty sure I've had at least three nightmares of C-sections gone wrong or my medical rights being violated. I'm worried that the hospital where I'll be delivering will do silly stuff like continuous fetal heart monitoring and making me lie still in bed, rather than labor how I want. This concern would likely cause me to stay at home for as long as possible, laboring where and how I want, before leaving... which potentially could lead me to delivering at someplace other than the hospital - like in the car on the side of the road.


This baby will come when he is ready, not when I am. He won't know or care if I am prepared. And that's fine. Because no matter what, we will suddenly be as ready as we'll ever be once he arrives.

Final Descent

33 Weeks, 3 Days
Honeydew Melon, or Pineapple
Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our final descent into the universe. Please return your tray tables and seat backs to the upright and locked position.


I am, apparently, carrying "low" or the baby has "dropped" according to at least a half dozen friends and family members. Of course, as a short person, it only means that I can't feel my ribs expanding, like, EVERY SINGLE SECOND. The rib pain is just the worst to me. Of course, there's more pain coming from the ever-stretching (and probably not ever returning to normal) ligaments in my lower abdomen.


I've been a bit concerned that this baby hasn't turned himself around to be ready for landing. At my last appointment a couple of weeks ago, he was still head-up. I have had multiple nightmares about having to have a cesarean because he didn't turn around for delivery. I mean, surely there must be some way to convince an unborn to rotate, right? Well, according to Spinning Babies, yes... there are ways. So I will be trying some of the less intense ones, like putting an ice pack on top of my tummy and playing music by my pubic bone. I have my next appointment in a couple of weeks, so I'll see what the midwife says then.


I don't want to negate anyone's birth experience. But I am really wanting to avoid a c-section. In my dreams, the surgeons keep telling me there is no other option and that they will totally sedate me for the surgery. I get furious because not only am I not getting the birth I want, but I am totally taken out of the equation so that I cannot even see my baby enter the world. In fact, I am kind of the last person in the room to know he has arrived because I have to wake up from anesthesia. That means, no kangaroo care, no skin-to-skin, no immediate nursing, no chance to tell my baby that it's okay, I'm here. I cannot stress how much I really, REALLY do not want that to be how my son enters this world. I want him to know me, smell me, and know he is okay. Really, a sedated cesarean takes away literally ALL of the things I want in my birth plan. It makes me sad, and angry, and sad again.


I'm not ready for this baby, clearly, because I have not yet scheduled my tour of labor and delivery. I haven't delivered at this hospital before, and so it might be important to, y'know, find out more about it. Especially their policies, given my fear of surgical intervention. I need to know how long before they're like, "Okay, lady, we've let you labor for a while. Now it's our turn." I have to make the call.

10 To Go

30 Weeks, 2 Days
Pumpkin, or Large Cabbage
It's hard to believe that the due date will be here in less than 10 weeks. Ten weeks to go, more or less, means that between two and three months from now, our little dude will be here. As Hubs says, "Sh** just got real." Only, it's been "real" for a while now. I get kicked, prodded, and poked. I sense the hiccups (night and day), and I can imagine what he is doing in there.


I am looking forward to the cuddle time, but it seems that rest is out the window. I'm already struggling with sleep. I feel like it's much too soon to be messing with my sleep. Unfortunately, I am dealing with the issues of waking up for no reason, tossing and turning, and having generally poor quality of sleep already. Once little man is here, it will be much, much worse (at least at first).


Still, I am excited about the prospect of meeting him. My belly is huge, and I can't imagine how he will manage to keep growing in the limited space I have left. I bet he finds a way!

Travels (and Travails) in the Third Trimester

Week 28
Winter Squash/Kabacha Squash/Large Eggplant


So I skipped a week (or three) - I was busy! I had to travel halfway across the country and back on interviews for next year's internship. I had an appointment yesterday, and my bump measured 27 weeks, so my delusions that I would have a 9-pounder may have, indeed, been delusions. The midwife says that because I've done this before, all my body supports are just done with it. Everything looks bigger. Everything feels bigger. So, I can relax. My to-do list includes the one hour glucose test (quite possibly the worst invention ever), and getting a Tdap vaccine to help protect baby even before he's born (it will be a while before he can get his own). The main focus, of course, is to vaccinate against pertussis, which can be a nuisance to me but deadly to him.


I also have more traveling to do. Among the numerous things I learned over the last couple of weeks, I discovered that:
(a) pregnancy is a "temporary disability" to most airlines and I can get authorization to pre-board.
(b) pregnancy is scary to most airlines and I will need a note once I'm in the third trimester (oh, right... NOW) or else they might not let me fly.
(c) I will be 32 weeks when I take my next flight, cross country.
(d) Pregnant women are more likely to get deep vein thrombosis (DVT) while flying, because of the cabin air pressure, sitting a long time, having large blood volume, and having lower blood pressure (though it starts to come back up a little in the third trimester).


I have learned that I personally need an aisle seat, preferably with the middle one open, so I can put all my junk that I want access to during flight, rather than keeping it under the seat. Also, I can get up and go pee whenever I want without asking someone to move. Oh, and also, I can stretch and bend my legs as needed to avoid DVT.


I had a DVT scare last week in the middle of the night. I awoke with SHOOTING pain down my left calf. I felt around for "hot spots" (which is a potential indicator of a clot), found nothing, massaged my leg for a bit, and then went back to sleep. Probably just a Charlie horse... probably.

No Rest for the Weary

25 Weeks, 1 day
Cauliflower, Rutabaga, or Bag of Flour (depending on the website)


I have had to travel a bit for work lately, and it won't slow down anytime soon. In the interim, I have had the worst sleep one might imagine. People say that later in pregnancy, baby is helping mom gear up for the frequent sleep-wake cycle of newborns. But that junk doesn't usually start until later in the third trimester. I am still (for a couple weeks) in the second trimester, and I'm supposed to be enjoying this time.


Don't get me wrong, I truly do enjoy the fun wiggles and jiggles of my squirmy-worm baby. I just prefer that they not be at 3am. And, being pregnant with a third kid while managing the lives of two other kids is not exactly a cake-walk in the first place. Thus, I am about as exhausted as I have ever been, despite this time supposedly being the "easiest" or the most relaxing part of pregnancy.

Discipline and Bonding

24 Weeks, 2 Days
Ear of Corn


Part of the fun of pregnancy is knowing that my young'un is moving and growing. These size estimates, however, are a little off (in my opinion). I think this one is bigger. My uterus should be the size of a soccer ball, and the top should be about an inch above my belly button. However, I am easily feeling movement 2 inches above my belly button, and I feel the space is shrinking really fast in there. Maybe it's because I'm short-statured, or because I have a short torso. Maybe my child is enormous. Who knows? I won't have another ultrasound (unless someone considers there to be a major reason to do so). I guess we'll see when I have my next midwife appointment.


My eldest has recently undergone a few disciplinary problems at school. I'm not sure what is happening, but we've realized that there seems to be about a 6-month cycle of limit-testing behavior. She is very well-behaved the rest of the time, but for a couple of weeks every 6 months or so, she goes through a phase of "bad choices." Lots of them. First, she punched another kid in the stomach because he wasn't listening to her on the playground. Likely, she was trying to dictate to him how he should play. Next, she broke another kid's newly-constructed Lego toy. Most recently, she disobeyed a teacher by locking a bathroom door after being explicitly told not to. She was supposed to test for her yellow belt at Taekwondo this week, but we decided she was not ready "on the inside." At the beginning of each class, the students recite a creed and 5 tenets, with very clear values about character-building, integrity, self-control, commitment to friendship, and a variety of other values that I can totally get on board with. Even though she knows her form and can do a very good job with the skills she has learned, we explained to her that she must be ready on the outside AND on the inside, by living the values expressed in the student's creed and 5 tenets. She was heartbroken, and it killed us to do it, but we couldn't just let it go.


We think this pattern of behavior is a developmentally appropriate thing, whereby she tests limits as she masters more skills and reaches higher levels of independence. She wants to know where the boundaries are. She wants to feel secure that, no matter what, the rules haven't suddenly changed on her. Nevertheless, it's hard on us parents to have to constantly be the "bad guys" and enforce disciplinary actions we really, really do not like to enforce. I'm the first to admit that sometimes I hope they make bad choices so I can remove a privilege I'm not really into that day anyway (e.g., going to the public swimming pool with them). However, skipping out on stuff that makes us insanely proud (e.g., yellow belt test) is an otherworldly experience devoid of satisfaction. The only positive thing I can say about it, is that the instructor totally backed us up and had, in fact, prevented his own two children from testing for a far less serious offense (not finishing their homework). So, there's that!


Lately, J and Hubs have been bonding more and more. They have found mutual joy in the game entitled "Plants vs. Zombies 2" (but little dude is overly obsessed with it, so I'm not thrilled about it). However, they have also found time to play tag (indoors, alas), have tickle fights, and lots of cuddle time. Little dude asks for his dad about as much as he asks for me, which is great! I have a mama's boy on my hands, and I'm happy to see that he acknowledges the existence of his other parent (at least every once in a while). This bonding is going to become especially important after T is born. I'm glad to see it in action, and I hope it continues!!

Things Strangers Do to Pregnant Women

23 Weeks, 4 Days
Mega-Mango
I have become a magnet for unwanted hands. I'm not sure where it is written in the societal norms protocol, that women who are pregnant should be touched by random strangers. It's as if we have forfeited our right to personal external space when we choose to share our internal space with a growing fetus. I have thought of some creative solutions to combat the unwanted touching. They include:

• Touching them back. Nothing says "awkward" like having your own belly rubbed by a pregnant woman, after you've rubbed hers without asking.
• Acting as if their touch is like acid. "OH! It burns! It BURNS! Why would you do that?" Commence the "what a world" speech of the Wicked Witch of the West from the 1939 classic, The Wizard of Oz.
• Slapping their hands. This is obviously the more aggressive response. It's important to say, "No!" in a firm voice, much in the way you might say to a puppy that has just micturated on your rug.
• Act like it turns you on. Only the bravest of souls can pull this one off. Maybe purr a little. Say, "Ooooh, don't stop. I like it."
• Go on a rant. Like, at least 25 minutes long. It must include several references to the dystopian world we must live in, where women's bodies are not their own as CLEARLY evidenced by a stranger's willingness to just spontaneously caress the abdomen of a woman completely without solicitation. Make sure it's loud. And public. Maybe stand on an actual soap box, if you can find one that isn't made of cardboard.

Of course, there are always the things that people say. Very inappropriate things. It's hard because, on the one hand, nobody wants to insult someone by asking if they are pregnant and risking the possibility that they aren't. However, it's a very different insult when people act surprised that you are pregnant. When you are so. Obviously. Showing. Sometimes, however, people are gutsy and ask away. Other people just play games.

• "Oh, I didn't know you were pregnant." This is a total cop-out. They were just afraid to ask if you were and waited until they could "overhear" you telling someone else your due-date.
• "So, ARE you pregnant?" No, I just let myself go. Of course I am! I can't fault people for asking, but sometimes the tone or the way in which they ask just reeks of incredulity. I think maybe they are hoping I would say that I was just overweight and confirm their initial thoughts. Oh, you mean you're pregnant, not just fat? I see. Well, guess I owe Jim-Bob some money.
• "Gosh, how many are IN there?" The implication here is that I am huge. Well, 3rd kid and a belly that has been there before. What do you want? Elasticity isn't permanent. How many times can you stretch a rubber band before it's just like, "Yeah, we're not going to go back to that 'new rubber band' smallness."
• "Oh, you're only 23 weeks?" Yet another implication of hugeness. To be fair, my midwife says I'm doing a bang-up job in controlling my weight gain. Also, to be fair, this one is riding deep. He likes to hang out around my spine. So I'm not that big. Really and truly. Nevertheless, the latter part of the previous point still applies: 3rd kid, well-rehearsed belly.
• "Gross, you have stretch marks already?" Well, these are old ones, from my second pregnancy. I miraculously made it through the first without any, but the beast that came next made his mark. It's still a little early for new stretch marks. And you know what? Stop looking at my belly. You're creeping me out.
• "When is your due date again?" This is a more covert way of asking why are you STILL pregnant. Most people have a tendency to forget how long a human gestation lasts. They think it should be over about the month after they find out you are pregnant. Of course, there are people who ask another way....
• "You STILL haven't had that baby yet?" Well, no, he's not ripe enough to come out yet. We kind of have to wait until his lungs develop and stuff. Calm down. It's not like you're carrying. Please don't act like my pregnancy is an inconvenience to your life.
• "But you had the perfect family before!" This is a huge insult, basically casting judgment on what type of family is "perfect" and why mine now won't be because we're adding another kid to the mix. If I were concerned about zero-point population replacement, we would have stopped with the two that would replace us. But, we didn't. So.... obviously that was not heavily weighed in our decision to grow our family.
• "I can't believe you would go through that again." Sometimes this comes from women who have had horrible birth experiences. Birth trauma, perhaps. I understand they can't wrap their minds around it just now. But sometimes, it comes from non-moms (women who haven't given birth, or men who aren't dads and/or who just can't deal with childbirth). So, your hang-ups about this miraculous wonder of pregnancy and birth haven't actually gone through my mind in a decade or so. At one point I was terrified of pregnancy and birth. But oh, the miracle! Oh, the mystery! Oh, the amazing grief and joy and pain and heroic triumph of bringing a new life into the world! There is absolutely no experience like it, and your lack of perspective on it doesn't really make you the authority on how all people feel about it.
• "Now you're going to be outnumbered." Yes, we've considered that. In fact, this one is probably the only thing that actually registers in my brain. My children are so, so smart. One day, they will learn to work together (rather than fight like cats and dogs). When they do, we are in trouble. There will be three of them. Assuming the third is as smart as his siblings, we could potentially have the beginnings of world domination in our offspring. We're just banking on the fact that we are older and wiser and can maybe catch on to their shenanigans before they do anything crazy or irreversible.

Bottom line, people do some crazy stuff around pregnant women. They let their guard down, let their thought filter go on standby, forget that we just don't reach out and touch strangers, and more. Not to mention all the unsolicited advice you get!! That will be saved for another blog. When you're pregnant, there's a lot more to this ride than just the stuff your body is going through. There's all the stuff that people around you are doing that makes it all the more.... interesting.

The Eggplant

23 Weeks
Small Eggplant (22-24 weeks), or Large Mango
I missed last week. Not because I was forgetful, but because I was busy. No matter. Baby's size hit "eggplant" last week (though maybe this is a puny eggplant), and is about the same for this and the next. Somewhere around 1-1.5 pounds, this little dude is kicking up a storm. Had a Level 2 Ultrasound last week, which included a fetal echocardiogram (EKG). Because the firstborn had a ventricular septal defect prior to birth, they wanted to check to be sure this little ticker was ticking properly. No worries. 150bpm at the last midwife appointment three days ago. He's doing great. He had the hiccups during the entire EKG appointment, which made it fun for the docs to try and get a good image. However, they felt pretty confident that 90% of possible heart defects were ruled out. The other 10% cannot be diagnosed in utero (things like the hole in the top of the heart, which is present in utero, failing to close upon birth). I'm feeling pretty good, but noticing that my lower back is starting to ache. Gotta carry this little dude around for about 17 more weeks (maybe less). He's only going to get bigger. And wigglier.

We Jammin'

21 Weeks, 1 Day
Cantaloupe
Today, we had a work-related picnic to attend. Hubs couldn't make it, so it was just the offspring and me. We had a marvelous time, and the kids didn't want to leave. Even after J-bird jammed his finger on the basketball court. I didn't think much of it, but knew it was bad when he kept complaining later on. By evening, it had swollen big and fat. So, I gave him a popsicle. Then, I washed the stick, cut it in half, trimmed the sharp edges down, and put it between his hurt finger and the next one over. Taped them together, gave him ibuprofen, and he seems fine. Tried to ice it, but we had no clean baby washcloths, and the others were too thick for the ice to penetrate. The hard part was getting him to STOP. SUCKING. ON THE SPLINT. I padded it with a cotton round cleansing pad, so bits of the fluff were stuck to his mouth. Seriously, son. You are three years old. Knock it off!

Post-jam finger splint. No big deal.

Belly is doing fine. Rocked some new clothes, courtesy of my mother-in-law. Felt pretty good today - so much so, that we cleaned up leaves in the back yard (after I did the front yard yesterday). Only now, my lower back and bottom are pretty sore. I think I need to put my feet up!

Halfway There

20 Weeks
Mango
Today is the first day they start measuring my fruit-baby from crown to heel, rather than from crown to rump. He is now about 10 inches long and weighs about 10.5 oz. However, at the ultrasound in week 18, they estimated he already weighed 10 oz. So, I may have an oinker. I neglected to show you our son, Jack Skellington, so he is pictured below:

"Blueberry" at 18w3d

I rotated the image so he could show you his "Whazzup" face, which looks pretty scary and awesome. I feel him wiggling all the time now, but only from the inside. I put my hands on the outside and can't feel anything but my heartbeat in my fingertips. Mama blood is powerful. I am a bit worried he will be a super-anxious kid, given all the stress I am under these days. Either that, or maybe he will be the most mellow kid because he needed to counteract all the cortisol his mother is kicking out. Hoping for the latter. Regardless, we're halfway to meeting him!

October 15th

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. According to the official site, the entire month of October was designated as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month by President Ronald Reagan in 1988. There are so many organizations out there to help out these days with loss of infants and pregnancy: First Candle, Pilari, and the T.E.A.R.S. Foundation, to name a few. But in 1988, there wasn't much. People hurt in silence. As a friend said to me, the hurt will be there forever and ever. But we can heal by moving forward. Into the future, and into life. We honor our children today. We honor the memories of those who are not with us by celebrating the ones who are, or by crying, or by lighting a candle, or by sharing our stories.

*      *      *      *      *

19 Weeks, 4 Days
Grapefruit

I feel my son squirming. Now is pretty much the halfway point, though most people would just say 20 weeks is. I'll probably post something to that effect in a couple days. Probably in the next week, the Hubs will be able to feel the squirming, too. I haven't gotten around to digitizing the pictures from last week's ultrasound, but suffice it to say, our child looks like Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Good thing we like that movie! As I remember my child who did not join us in August, but who passed away in January, I am struck by the feeling that I am still blessed. I feel my son move again. He's getting comfortable. He still has a long way to go before he joins us. And I am not going to rush him.

Wow, your belly just popped!

18 Weeks
Dragon Fruit (or, if you are boring, Sweet Potato)
My exotic little dude is kicking a lot more now. I can't quite make out a pattern to it yet, so kick-counting might not happen for another week or two. The fantastic news is, I will get to see him on ultrasound in just a few days!!! Pics will be posted. No worries. Everyone loves ultrasound pics, right? Right??


My workouts have had to adjust. I'm now to the point where my center of gravity is shifting up and forward, so I can't dart all over the place in multiple directions. I also can't be on my back anymore (so no more bicycle kicks). Sad as it may seem, someone who was working out near me asked me why I wasn't showing yet (at 16w, 5d). Someone who was with the asker (who also happened to be a family medicine doc) replied, "Oh, she shouldn't be showing yet." How little he knew! Even as a health care provider, he evidently didn't know that there's a wide range of when the "bump" appears. I'm short in stature and have had two kids before, so there's really no surprise that I had a little "beer gut" by then.


However, in the past few days, I have noticed a rapid progression to roundness. I lamented to some colleagues at the gym that I might need to start bringing a beach towel instead of a regular bath towel for my post-workout showers. The bath towel doesn't quite cover all the naked real estate anymore. It sort of happened suddenly, which is just as I remember it before. Moving toward the fifth month of pregnancy, it's about time he decided to get large! Right now, Blueberry (the size of a dragon fruit) is about 5.6 inches long (from the top of his head to his little bum) and weighs about 6.7 ounces. I switched to my maternity ACU this week as well. I couldn't button the trousers anymore, so... here we are, elastic.


I have decided, however, that my next mission will be to redesign the maternity uniforms. One major flaw in all of them (dress uniforms or no) is that they are almost entirely devoid of pockets. I dreaded switching over to the maternity gear, not because I was ashamed of my growing midsection, but because I didn't want to be without pockets. Where will I keep my keys, wallet, lip balm, cell phone, ID badge, and all the other junk I carry around? I certainly can't use a PURSE. Obviously, whoever designed the maternity uniforms (a) is a man, (b) has never had children, (c) lacks practical thinking, or (d) all of the above.

BRUNCH - because, why not?

17 weeks, 2 days
Navel Orange
I'm feeling great. Every so often, I can sense a little wiggle, which means Blueberry (who is now the size of a navel orange - not to be confused with a Naval orange like those on a ship - ha!) is getting bigger all the time. Had my 16-week checkup last week, and the heart rate has gone down by a lot - to 146 bpm. Still well within the normal range for fetal heart rate. I measure where I should, with the top of my uterus just about 2-3 inches below my belly button. At 20 weeks, it should be right at my belly button.


Now that I'm cruising well into the second trimester, I feel like my fatigue is starting to wane. I say starting to, because I am at the busiest time of my year - working on about three different things at one time and trying to stay sane. As either a way to stay sane, or as a way to just add something to my schedule (because I apparently needed to do that), we're having some friends over for brunch today. I love brunch. It's like a free-for-all carb-fest, with some eggs and other stuff. Pretty much anything is possible. And one of my friends is bringing some apple muffins, made from the apples picked at a farm near us. Mmmmm....


Time to make my house smell of deliciousness!