Here is how I spent the day yesterday:
10:30am - missed yoga class so I ran errands, had the oil changed in the car, etc, etc
1:30pm - had my 39 week appt with Dr. Honey. Now about 1.5cm dilated and still 50-60% effaced. She did a small amount of "sweeping my membranes" and offered to do this again for me on Thu morning in hopes of getting things moving.
4:00pm - met up with Mr. Spicy to go check out our future pediatrician's office. Took the tour at 4:30, met with a Dr. and a med asst. Decided this is definitely the practice for us and felt very pleased about that.
5:45pm - arrived home, excited to have dinner with a good friend at 7. Began a playful teasing banter with Mr. Spicy.
~~this is where everything changes~~
5:50pm - got out of the car and began walking towards the house - still joking loudly with husband. Caught my shoe in crack of sidewalk and went flying through the air. In a desperate effort not to land directly on my belly, I turn and land on my right side. I end up with a scraped knee, a scraped hand, (later a sore hip), and and elbow to my belly.
5:55pm - make it into the house with Mr. Spicy's help. Call my OB's office. Search Google frantically for information on falling in the third trimester. The Ob on call, and Dr. Google both reccomend heading straight to Labor & Delivery. Holy Shit.
6:05pm - making the 5 minute drive to labor & Delivery, my doula calls. We tell her what is happening and she talks to me and helps me calm down, reminding me to breathe and connect with my body and my baby. I feel Poblano move a few times and the fear becomes a bit less overwhelming. I have a sense things will be ok. We are in this together.
6:10pm - try to get into night entrance at Labor & Delivery but couldn't understand security guard over intercom. He wouldn't let us in because we didn't specifically say the magic words: "We are in labor!" or "This is an emergency!". We drive around to the main entrance and take the long way to L&D. Mr. Spicy is FUMING at this point.
6:15pm - they get us checked in at L&D. Mr. Spicy goes to move our car. He also goes to have a word with the security guard. I sit anxiously hoping he returns soon and isn't arrested for harrassment or worse. The nurses get me hooked up to the monitors, and Mr. Spicy returns. At first Poblano's heartrate looks it flat. It isn't showing the accelerations they normally like to see. More waiting and watching and listening.
7:00pm - now Poblano's heart rate is looking more normal. They move us to one of the nicer labor and delivery rooms because the computer isn't working in the monitoring room I was in. They draw a full panel of blood and everything looks normal. The Dr. on call from my Ob's office has decided to keep us for four hours of observation. We sit, we wait, we listen. I thank God every time I feel Poblano trying to kick the hell out of those damn monitors. I think they are pretty uncomfortable too.
~~ hours pass, Mr. Spicy gets us Thai food, we eat, watch TV and begin to feel confident things will be ok~~
10:00pm - resident Ob does an u/s - more for our benefit than anything. He is so squished in there, you can't really get a decent shot. But his head is down in my pelvis, and his back is to my left side, with his legs curled over and filling the right side. We see the top of his head, his spine, his heart, his femur - he looks gorgeous to me. He has plenty of fluid and the placenta looks as it should for 39 weeks. HUGE sigh of relief!
11:00pm - another blood draw to compare to the first. The phlebotomist is really rough with his technique and bruises me. But, I don't even wince. I am sure this will be the last step before I get to go home, reassured all is well with our little boy. And that is all that matters.
11:30pm - our nurse comes in. Bad news. My hematocrit has dropped from 38 to 31. This could signify internal bleeding. Or it could be lab error. Either way, they are now telling us we will be staying overnight. We have another blood draw scheduled at 3am. The nurse tries to reassure us. She says first: "Sometimes there's a small bleed and it heals itself." then she says, "But if the next test comes back lower - we will probably induce just to get him out of there." INDUCE! INDUCE!? Shit! Mr. Spicy runs home to let the dogs out and comes back with our "labor bag" just in case. He falls asleep on the bench/bed next to my bed. I stay awake - my mind swimming with the idea that we could be induced in just a few hours. I am exhausted and really uncomfortable from trying to find a way to comfortably sit/lie with those montors attached. I am sore from my fall. I don't know if I was induced if I would have the strength or determination to go through labor right now. I am an emotional wreck from the events of the evening and I could desperately use some sleep. Instead, I watch the clock - walk myself through the "what ifs" - pray - and wait for 3am.
3am - finally. a different phlebotomist arrives. A kind man, probably in his forties with a thick accent. He is much more gentle and wishes me luck. I am grateful for his kindness. I hope it is a good sign of things to come.
3:30am - Our nurse comes in. I am just coming out of the bathroom. My last hematocrit looks great. I didn't even ask for a number, I just was so relieved. She tells us we can stop the monitoring (Poblano's been looking awesome all night long!) and we can sleep till 7, or leave now - whichever we prefer. I wake up Mr. Spicy to tell him the good news. We both agree we'd rather be home. We pack up our stuff, get our discharge info and head home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After everything works out, after I know my baby boy is ok and so am I - I feel guilty. Guilty for falling. Guilty for taking up so much time - from Mr. Spicy, from the nurses and doctors.....from everyone. I feel like the girl who cried wolf. I feel uncomfortable with the amount of attention and resources I have drawn to myself. Mr. Spicy assures me the fall was not my fault, and that we did all the right things. He reminds me that neither of us would have slept or probably exhaled the entire night had we not gone in to the hospital and made sure our son was ok. He is right. He is completely right. I just wish I had paid more attention and not fallen in the first place.
I also realize that I no longer feel any room or desire to complain about being uncomfortable or feeling so "ready" for Poblano to come. I don't care anymore. I don't care if he decides to stay in there another 2 weeks. I just want him safe and sound. And he can get here whenever he is ready. The most comforting thing in the world was hearing his heart beat all night long. I got home and could still hear it in my head - the phantom of the monitors wooshing away next to my ear. It had been less than an hour and already I missed hearing him - having some tangible outside proof of him, of his health and strength.
Lastly, even though the nurses and doctors treated us incredibly well and the accomodations were as comfortable as they could be - this visit really cemented my desire to labor at home as long as possible. No matter what they do, the hospital is just no match for home. And even though I was only on external monitors - I realized how limiting and uncomfortable those could be - even just on an intermittent basis - when I am trying to move and adjust and deal with contractions. So. As long as I am doing well, and Poblano is moving around, we will try to stay home during labor as long as we can. We are literally 5 minutes from the hospital and my Dr. fully suports this plan. But - I also realized from our stay last night, how compassionate and helpful the nurses and Dr.s (and even the phlebotomists) are and can be. I realized that if our plan goes awry, if we spend more time there than we hope to - we will be in really good hands. And that is a huge relief.
On our "to do" list before Poblano arrives, Mr. Spicy had written: "Make several practice runs to Labor & Delivery" - we are so close that this is kind of laughable, but he wanted to be prepared. So, as we were leaving last night I told him I thought we had filled that requirement. We hadn't only done a practice run, we'd done a whole "practice stay". He laughed and asked, "Why do we always have to be the overachievers on everything?!"
January 07, 2009
January 04, 2009
I'm sorry to inform you that you have a boring, normal pregnancy...
That's what the Dr. told us on Friday. We (Mr. Spicy is home on mandatory "vacation" till the 5th) saw Dr. Z, the only male doctor in the practice, since Dr. Honey is also on vacation this week.
He is quite gregarious and funny. He listened to Poblano's heart beating on the doppler, took my measurements and announced that we were boringly normal. My uterus measures perfectly at 38, Poblano's heartrate was perfectly within the normal range, my blood pressure was normal and even a bit low for this stage, and.....I am STILL just 1 cm dilated. BUT! I am now 60% effaced, whereas last week I was still "thick".
Dr. Z demonstrated a great analogy for us on effacement, for Mr. Spicy's benefit. He related it to pulling a knit cap over one's head, when the cap is completely down over the head this equals 100% effacement and all that is left is for the top of the cap to open (like the cervix dilating). He said where I am at is completely normal for a first time pregnancy and suggested we have more "sexual intercourse". Mr. Spicy perked up at that prescription!
It was a good visit and Dr. Z made us laugh. Especially when he "stepped out of hitting range" as he advised us that we were likely to make it to our due date and possibly a bit further. I deliberately scheduled this visit with him because we hadn't met yet and since there is no gaurantee of which Dr. I will get at delivery, I wanted to at least meet him ahead of time so I wouldn't feel caught off guard if some strange male Dr. arrived to deliver my baby. I tend to choose female doctors and especially in the gynecological realm - so it was good to meet him and find him to be really pleasant (and gentle! which is a HUGE plus!).
And....THANK YOU ALL so much for your reassurances and encouragement with my last post. I am actually suddenly feeling somewhat better and my anxiety is passing. I feel much more relaxed about the coming of our Poblano and have decided to just let go and let him come when he is good and ready. (of course, I am still walking, still doing my exercises, still eating spicy food, and still following Dr. Z's instructions - just to help things along) I am a little nervous about going overdue - just in terms of avoiding interventions and such. But, mostly I am trying to enjoy these last days with my husband and with this little one inside of me - knowing he will be here very very soon. Thanks for letting me wig out a bit though, and assuring me that I am not just a big fat whiny brat.
Also - I have a very special 38 week belly picture. But, I may be lazy and just wait to post it till 39 weeks (only 2 days away!). Thanks again!!!
He is quite gregarious and funny. He listened to Poblano's heart beating on the doppler, took my measurements and announced that we were boringly normal. My uterus measures perfectly at 38, Poblano's heartrate was perfectly within the normal range, my blood pressure was normal and even a bit low for this stage, and.....I am STILL just 1 cm dilated. BUT! I am now 60% effaced, whereas last week I was still "thick".
Dr. Z demonstrated a great analogy for us on effacement, for Mr. Spicy's benefit. He related it to pulling a knit cap over one's head, when the cap is completely down over the head this equals 100% effacement and all that is left is for the top of the cap to open (like the cervix dilating). He said where I am at is completely normal for a first time pregnancy and suggested we have more "sexual intercourse". Mr. Spicy perked up at that prescription!
It was a good visit and Dr. Z made us laugh. Especially when he "stepped out of hitting range" as he advised us that we were likely to make it to our due date and possibly a bit further. I deliberately scheduled this visit with him because we hadn't met yet and since there is no gaurantee of which Dr. I will get at delivery, I wanted to at least meet him ahead of time so I wouldn't feel caught off guard if some strange male Dr. arrived to deliver my baby. I tend to choose female doctors and especially in the gynecological realm - so it was good to meet him and find him to be really pleasant (and gentle! which is a HUGE plus!).
And....THANK YOU ALL so much for your reassurances and encouragement with my last post. I am actually suddenly feeling somewhat better and my anxiety is passing. I feel much more relaxed about the coming of our Poblano and have decided to just let go and let him come when he is good and ready. (of course, I am still walking, still doing my exercises, still eating spicy food, and still following Dr. Z's instructions - just to help things along) I am a little nervous about going overdue - just in terms of avoiding interventions and such. But, mostly I am trying to enjoy these last days with my husband and with this little one inside of me - knowing he will be here very very soon. Thanks for letting me wig out a bit though, and assuring me that I am not just a big fat whiny brat.
Also - I have a very special 38 week belly picture. But, I may be lazy and just wait to post it till 39 weeks (only 2 days away!). Thanks again!!!
January 01, 2009
38 weeks has arrived and it is kicking my ass
Before I get into everything, a quick update: I lost my mucous plug somewhere in the dark and early hours of Wednesday morning on one of my 500 trips to the bathroom. I don't know if I am any further dilated yet as I do not have my "38 week" appointment until Friday, when I will be 38 weeks and 3 days pregnant.
I have been trying to avoid writing this post. This post where I complain or bemoan my last weeks, or maybe days, of pregnancy - knowing full well, with all my heart how incredibly fortunate I am to even be here to begin with. I have spent the large majority of my pregnancy feeling that gratitude and wonder, knowing at each turn in the road, at each milestone, how very very blessed I am. Blessed to have a fairly textbook and simple pregnancy, blessed to enjoy pregnancy, blessed to be healthy and have a healthy little pepper growing inside of me, blessed all around. Just two weeks ago I was still commenting on how much I simply loved being pregnant, how great I still felt, how I was eager to meet our son but also perfectly content to hang out in my blissfully pregnant state as long as was needed.
I have had a spectacular pregnancy. I have stayed relatively healthy, have not gained a ton of weight, have been fairly active, have deeply enjoyed connecting with our son in utero, have loved my new pregnant curves, have loved how much my husband loved my new pregnant curves. It has been really amazing. So - when others kept warning me I would feel differently the last 2-3 weeks, I really didn't put much stock in it. I felt like I was made for this, made for pregnancy - my body was finally doing all it was meant to, and doing it well. It would not let me down. Ha!
Then 37 weeks hit. That nagging sciatic pain that had come and gone during previous months reared it's head again, but instead of coming and going - it moved in and made its home in the lower right quadrant of my back, my right buttock and my right thigh, reducing me to tears and foul words if I so much as tried to innocently take three steps across the kitchen floor. "Still", I thought, "this is normal pregnancy pain, not so bad - I will be ok - nothing to complain about." But each day the pain has gotten progressively worse, and nothing much seems to help. My chiropractor broke it to me simply: "there's not much I can do to help - you just have to have that baby."
Then, as if the rest of my body had gotten the message now that it was ok to start falling apart on me, other symptoms began to appear: massive lower back pain, pelvic pain, the timely reappearance of nightly acid reflux, complete utter exhaustion, and my new favorite - mind-numbing insomnia. And as each new symptom has appeared I tried very hard to simply take it in without complaint, to accept it as a sign things were moving in the right direction. I kept telling myself how very very lucky I was to even be feeling these things. But they kept coming. Soon, I found myself having to scooch four times to simply roll over in bed, and actually getting out of bed has become an olympic event in and of itself. I no longer feel beautiful and womanly and fertile, but simply huge and bloated and beached like a whale.
Thankfully, I have incredibly understanding and empathetic friends who have assured me that this is all very normal and does not mean I am any less grateful. They have kindly offered to allow me to vent as much as is needed. My doula has assured me that these feelings help prepare a woman to be ready to go through labor. After all, if you feel super-duper why would you willingly walk into something like labor and the ensuing uncertainty to follow? In her words, it almost has to get bad enough to make you willing to endure labor to come out of it. But there's the rub. I do want out. I am begging this child to come, I am eating spicy foods, drinking my tea, getting my daily dose of prostaglandins. And tonight - I feel really strange and guilty about it.
I don't want to end this chapter this way, with a desperate wish to get out of it. I don't want to forget in my haze of hormones and sleep deprivation what a tremendous gift this has been. I don't want my son to sense in any way that I can't wait to evict him just to get some relief. But at times, I have felt or am feeling all of those things and more.
On the other hand, I am also terrifyingly aware that regardless of how I feel, this little boy is coming out sometime. And it may be some time very soon. And then I think, "Holy Shit! How did I get here? It's all gone by so fast!" And I realize with alarming clarity that although I now know how to be pregnant, and have armed myself with all sorts of knowledge about breastfeeding, birthing, and even child-rearing - I know nothing, really, nothing of what motherhood is or will be for me. I don't know who I will be once this little guy makes his appearance, his permanent, life-altering appearance in our lives. I don't know who he will be. I will learn, I have been told. But it is more than a little frightening all the same. Frightening enough to almost make me beg for more time to figure it all out, as if there is such a thing.
So here I sit - half of me wishing desperately in the still dark hours of morning for some relief, and half of me mourning that this season is almost over. Mourning that soon my womb will be empty. That never again will I feel Poblano rolling over or jabbing me with his pointy-parts. That never again will being a mother be so easy, so contained. That once I have let go of him with my body, I will begin the life-long practice of letting go in a million ways, with my heart. And with that ache - the physical complaints I feel now seem no less painful, but maybe just a bit more bearable.
So - yes, I am ready. Ready for him to come. Ready to meet my son. Ready to trade these pains and discomforts for new ones. But I am also holding on just a bit, knowing that this is our last bit of time together like this. Knowing that soon the quiet nighttime wanderings of my anxious mind will be replaced by something altogether less quiet and less easily controlled. Knowing, in the words of one of my favorite poets, David Whyte:
the good news is: "Everything is waiting for you", the bad news is, "EVERYTHING is waiting for you."
I have been trying to avoid writing this post. This post where I complain or bemoan my last weeks, or maybe days, of pregnancy - knowing full well, with all my heart how incredibly fortunate I am to even be here to begin with. I have spent the large majority of my pregnancy feeling that gratitude and wonder, knowing at each turn in the road, at each milestone, how very very blessed I am. Blessed to have a fairly textbook and simple pregnancy, blessed to enjoy pregnancy, blessed to be healthy and have a healthy little pepper growing inside of me, blessed all around. Just two weeks ago I was still commenting on how much I simply loved being pregnant, how great I still felt, how I was eager to meet our son but also perfectly content to hang out in my blissfully pregnant state as long as was needed.
I have had a spectacular pregnancy. I have stayed relatively healthy, have not gained a ton of weight, have been fairly active, have deeply enjoyed connecting with our son in utero, have loved my new pregnant curves, have loved how much my husband loved my new pregnant curves. It has been really amazing. So - when others kept warning me I would feel differently the last 2-3 weeks, I really didn't put much stock in it. I felt like I was made for this, made for pregnancy - my body was finally doing all it was meant to, and doing it well. It would not let me down. Ha!
Then 37 weeks hit. That nagging sciatic pain that had come and gone during previous months reared it's head again, but instead of coming and going - it moved in and made its home in the lower right quadrant of my back, my right buttock and my right thigh, reducing me to tears and foul words if I so much as tried to innocently take three steps across the kitchen floor. "Still", I thought, "this is normal pregnancy pain, not so bad - I will be ok - nothing to complain about." But each day the pain has gotten progressively worse, and nothing much seems to help. My chiropractor broke it to me simply: "there's not much I can do to help - you just have to have that baby."
Then, as if the rest of my body had gotten the message now that it was ok to start falling apart on me, other symptoms began to appear: massive lower back pain, pelvic pain, the timely reappearance of nightly acid reflux, complete utter exhaustion, and my new favorite - mind-numbing insomnia. And as each new symptom has appeared I tried very hard to simply take it in without complaint, to accept it as a sign things were moving in the right direction. I kept telling myself how very very lucky I was to even be feeling these things. But they kept coming. Soon, I found myself having to scooch four times to simply roll over in bed, and actually getting out of bed has become an olympic event in and of itself. I no longer feel beautiful and womanly and fertile, but simply huge and bloated and beached like a whale.
Thankfully, I have incredibly understanding and empathetic friends who have assured me that this is all very normal and does not mean I am any less grateful. They have kindly offered to allow me to vent as much as is needed. My doula has assured me that these feelings help prepare a woman to be ready to go through labor. After all, if you feel super-duper why would you willingly walk into something like labor and the ensuing uncertainty to follow? In her words, it almost has to get bad enough to make you willing to endure labor to come out of it. But there's the rub. I do want out. I am begging this child to come, I am eating spicy foods, drinking my tea, getting my daily dose of prostaglandins. And tonight - I feel really strange and guilty about it.
I don't want to end this chapter this way, with a desperate wish to get out of it. I don't want to forget in my haze of hormones and sleep deprivation what a tremendous gift this has been. I don't want my son to sense in any way that I can't wait to evict him just to get some relief. But at times, I have felt or am feeling all of those things and more.
On the other hand, I am also terrifyingly aware that regardless of how I feel, this little boy is coming out sometime. And it may be some time very soon. And then I think, "Holy Shit! How did I get here? It's all gone by so fast!" And I realize with alarming clarity that although I now know how to be pregnant, and have armed myself with all sorts of knowledge about breastfeeding, birthing, and even child-rearing - I know nothing, really, nothing of what motherhood is or will be for me. I don't know who I will be once this little guy makes his appearance, his permanent, life-altering appearance in our lives. I don't know who he will be. I will learn, I have been told. But it is more than a little frightening all the same. Frightening enough to almost make me beg for more time to figure it all out, as if there is such a thing.
So here I sit - half of me wishing desperately in the still dark hours of morning for some relief, and half of me mourning that this season is almost over. Mourning that soon my womb will be empty. That never again will I feel Poblano rolling over or jabbing me with his pointy-parts. That never again will being a mother be so easy, so contained. That once I have let go of him with my body, I will begin the life-long practice of letting go in a million ways, with my heart. And with that ache - the physical complaints I feel now seem no less painful, but maybe just a bit more bearable.
So - yes, I am ready. Ready for him to come. Ready to meet my son. Ready to trade these pains and discomforts for new ones. But I am also holding on just a bit, knowing that this is our last bit of time together like this. Knowing that soon the quiet nighttime wanderings of my anxious mind will be replaced by something altogether less quiet and less easily controlled. Knowing, in the words of one of my favorite poets, David Whyte:
the good news is: "Everything is waiting for you", the bad news is, "EVERYTHING is waiting for you."
December 23, 2008
37 weeks
Had my 37 week appt today.
It is also a really bizarre Christmas for me. Mr. Spicy and I decided to devote our time, energy, and finances this year to just laying low and prepping for Poblano's arrival - which is surprisingly a lot of work! So, no major crafting or baking sprees for me, and we aren't even really doing gifts except for kids in our family and maybe a few other family members. I feel sort of lame. It seemed like a good idea, a relief, when we made the decision. But now I am sort of missing all the holiday hullabaloo. I actually *love* buying and making gifts for others at Christmas. And now I feel all scroogy and weird because we haven't done that this year. Bah humbug!
But, we have carved out some time to honor our usual Christmas Eve traditions and to make some space for quiet spiritual reflection which is really the most important part of the season for me. So I am really looking forward to that.
And in case I sound grumpy and whiny - I assure you I am not. Just wishing I had more to give on all fronts: time, energy, gifts, attention.... I feel like we have begun the retreat into our cave to prepare for the life changing event to come, and I am having a hard time not being as available or as giving to the people we love as my heart would like to be.
But I am thrilled our little one is doing so well, grateful that I am doing so well, and looking forward to some time with my hubby over his holiday "break". It feels like we are awaiting the biggest Christmas gift of our lives and we aren't quite sure when it (he) will get here. Talk about joyful anticipation!
I hope everyone has a really special and meaningful time with people they love this holiday season - whatever that looks like for each of you. May you all be blessed with peace, love, and joy.
- I am still just 1cm dilated. Which is pretty much right on schedule. I really *felt* like things were changing, and expected a bit more, but we're ok with 1cm. I want Poblano to come when he is good and ready. Even though I am dying to meet him - I can be patient!
- I am negative for GBS - yay!
- My blood pressure (90/60) is great.
- We did another NST and Poblano is doing perfectly.
- I am having mild contractions and "cramping".
- My Dr. looked over my "birth plan" (we're calling it Birth Wishes though) and approved everything.
It is also a really bizarre Christmas for me. Mr. Spicy and I decided to devote our time, energy, and finances this year to just laying low and prepping for Poblano's arrival - which is surprisingly a lot of work! So, no major crafting or baking sprees for me, and we aren't even really doing gifts except for kids in our family and maybe a few other family members. I feel sort of lame. It seemed like a good idea, a relief, when we made the decision. But now I am sort of missing all the holiday hullabaloo. I actually *love* buying and making gifts for others at Christmas. And now I feel all scroogy and weird because we haven't done that this year. Bah humbug!
But, we have carved out some time to honor our usual Christmas Eve traditions and to make some space for quiet spiritual reflection which is really the most important part of the season for me. So I am really looking forward to that.
And in case I sound grumpy and whiny - I assure you I am not. Just wishing I had more to give on all fronts: time, energy, gifts, attention.... I feel like we have begun the retreat into our cave to prepare for the life changing event to come, and I am having a hard time not being as available or as giving to the people we love as my heart would like to be.
But I am thrilled our little one is doing so well, grateful that I am doing so well, and looking forward to some time with my hubby over his holiday "break". It feels like we are awaiting the biggest Christmas gift of our lives and we aren't quite sure when it (he) will get here. Talk about joyful anticipation!
I hope everyone has a really special and meaningful time with people they love this holiday season - whatever that looks like for each of you. May you all be blessed with peace, love, and joy.
December 20, 2008
36 weeks (a little late)
Time is whipping by and I have been uber-busy getting ready for this little pepper to make his debut. But here is the quick update:
- I am 1cm dilated as of this past Tuesday. I don't know about effacement or any of the other details. My Dr. doesn't usually check dilation at 36 weeks but she did for me because I am so anxious to know EVERYTHING! Also? lots of bleeding after the check, and spotting for 2 days afterwards. I know this can be normal - but it kinda freaked me out.
- They tested me for GBS (Gram B Strep) on Tuesday as well. I will find out this following Tuesday the results. (Crossing my fingers for a negative!)
- On Tuesday night I woke up with a really strong contraction. On Wednesday my doula looked at me and asked if I was breathing better. I suddenly realized I could take a full deep breath for the first time in ages. She said it looked like I had "dropped" or at least begun to. She suspected that the big contraction was Poblano moving himself down into my pelvis. I am breathing much easier and have much much less acid reflux.....so maybe she's right?
- Speaking of our doula and her fabulousness, we had a long meeting with her on Wednesday night and it was really wonderful. We discovered some things about the ways that I feel encouraged and how I cope with stress or pain that will help us during the birth and we worked on our "Birth Preferences" (aka Birth Plan) and she taught me some exercises for optimal fetal positioning (OFP). Supposedly all the women she has taught this to, and all the women taught this by the doula who trained her in it, never have had longer than 10 hour labors!!! So, I am faithfully practicing every night. I mean, 10 hours? That would be nice.
- Other than my OFP exercises, I have been walking this week with a dear friend. We hop on the treadmills and start gabbing and suddenly I have walked an entire hour! I wish exercising always felt this easy! Of course afterwards I am waddling like a duck and sore as hell! But it feels good to be doing it.
- Because of Mr. Spicy's new job and our new insurance I can go back to my chiropractor for only $20, AND I can get a full 1 hour massage for $20. So - I did both this week, and it was heaven! I had my massage yesterday and I slept soundly last night for the first time in a really really long time. I am planning on getting adjusted and massaged each week till Poblano comes. It is supposed to really help the baby get into position for birth and relieve a lot of the back pain. I just feel so fortunate that our insurance makes this so affordable to do.
- I have been seeing my acupuncturist once a month through pregnancy. I went to see her this week for possibly my last appointment. But we scheduled another appointment first thing in the morning on the 30th (38 weeks). If he is not here by then, she will begin activating some of the more "aggressive" points. So, Mr. Spicy may get his wish for a 2008 baby after all. Of course, none of this will do anything if Poblano isn't ready to come, so I feel fairly secure in knowing that we are opening the way and encouraging him, but still allowing him to get here when he is fully ready to.
- Sleep. Sleep? I miss sleeping. I miss it so much! It has gotten to where I dread going to bed at night because I know I will either a) be unable to fall asleep, b) wake up in 2-3 hours and be unable to fall back asleep, or c) wake up in 2-3 hours and spend the whole night sleeping in 20 minute increments as I toss and turn trying to get comfortable, or breathe, or stop throwing up (acid reflux). The breathing and the acid reflux has been better since Tuesday, so there is that. And the massage yesterday REALLY helped. So there is that too. I can handle it if at least every second or third night I get 6+ hours or so, but for a while there I was getting 2-3 hours of sleep for 3-4 nights in a row and it was killing me! I would spend all day an exhausted zombie on the verge of tears and then at night I would lay awake with adrenaline surging through my veins. It got pretty miserable. BUT - I am crossing my fingers that we may have turned a corner and that next week may be better. It just has to be. I don't expect to sleep solidly through the night. It is impossible with my now pea-sized bladder. But to be able to sleep for the majority of the night would be amazing. Was amazing (last night).
- Otherwise, all is pretty normal here in preggo-ville. I am losing brain cells daily, possibly hourly. I can't remember anything unless I write it down, and even then..... I am frantically trying to get all our baby-prep done as well as keeping up on normal day-to-day stuff like dishes, and trying to squeeze in a few last visits with friends before I am out of commission for awhile in baby-ville. I feel very "ready" for our Poblano to come and just can't wait to meet him! There is still a lot to be done, but emotionally I am just ready - I want to see him, to hold him, to nibble on his cheeks and toes. I pull out his clothes and sigh over them. It has been15 weeks since we saw him in that last grainy ultrasound image. I am jonesing. I want to see my son's face. It is all I think about. I am totally obsessed.
- Last but not least, here are my 36 week (actually 361/2 week) belly shots. I don't know if I look terribly different than 2 weeks ago - you tell me. But I do know it is the first time since I was 14 that my boobs have actually not looked enormous! I am wearing a 38H right now (usually I'm somewhere around a 34F) - but my belly makes them look normal-sized. Ok, enough talk about my breasts, they'll be plenty of that later when breast-feeding comes along.
December 09, 2008
35 weeks.....really. wow.
Warning! Half naked belly pics below!
So. I am 35 weeks pregnant today. Holy cow.
Everyone keeps asking "Are you excited?" and "Are you ready?"
The answer to the former is, Yes of course I am, but I am also a bit terrified and overwhelmed at the BIG change about to come into our lives. And honestly, I am grieving being so close to the end as well. I almost burst into tears at my last OB appt. This time has literally flown by and there are still so many things I *meant* to do to commemorate it. And although it has been a hard time in some ways, and certainly a time of reflection and growth and assessment - it has been really, truly, sweet. I love my pregnant body. I love the way my husband looks at my giant growing belly and smiles. I love dreaming about our child together. I love feeling him move and knowing he is safe and sound. I love the feeling of strength and beauty I have knowing I am carrying this life inside of me. And no, I won't miss not sleeping, or having massive acid reflux every night, or feeling like someone kicked me in my vagina - but I will miss pregnancy as a whole. I know, I know, ask me again in 3 weeks and see how I feel, right?
The answer to the latter question is pretty much, "Hell no" - we are so far from "ready" (whatever that means). My "to do" list is more than a page long and I will have to accomplish more than one thing on it per day to ensure we are all set for our Poblano. I have washed some of the baby clothes and erected the co-sleeper (it still needs bedding washed and to be attached to the bed) - I have ordered diapers (cloth) and some other items we are missing - but other than that? Yeah, total slacker. Which is no surprise really. I am a renowned procrastinator. I am the queen of getting things done at the last possible hour. I think I actually work better under that stress some times. But in this case, I am working against a really vague deadline. He could come weeks early, or weeks late, or anywhere in between. Doesn't give me a whole lot to work with there. We aren't setting up a nursery right away though, which saves me some work. He will be staying in our room with us for probably the first 6 months or so. We have a dresser for him and a co-sleeper. There's a changing table in our bathroom and we have a couple swings, bouncy seats, etc. that will reside upstairs and downstairs. So, shouldn't be too difficult, right?
Why does everything seem to take so much more time and effort than I could have imagined though? Take our search for a doula for example. We went to a "Meet the Doulas" night. It was good. Lots of good info. Met 4 doulas. No one really jumped out at us. We interviewed another doula at our home. She was really experienced and knowledgeable and would have done a great job, I am sure - but we just didn't "click" with her the way we hoped to. Then, I spent day after day emailing or calling doulas, only to get no response or to find out they aren't practicing any more or are already booked. FINALLY, this weekend we interviewed another doula and she really rocked. She isn't as experienced as some of the others we've looked at, but she has so many qualities that are such a good fit for us and she seems very knowledgeable and supportive. We connected right away and I felt really safe with her discussing some of my concerns and issues around the birth and preparing for it on a spiritual, psychological, emotional, and physical level. She also has a decade of experience as a counselor working with pregnant and postpartum women and is very familiar with post-partum depression. So, she will be very comfortable supporting me in assessing where I am at and getting the resources I will need if that becomes an issue for me. So, that is finally resolved - which is a huge relief - but gosh it seemed to take forever! Now I need to find a pediatrician. Yeah. I am not looking forward to that so much at all. But I have to have one by the time our Poblano arrives - so I better get on it.
Lots has happened in the last few weeks.
And last but not least......I did manage to take a 34 week belly photo, although I am posting it a week late - here is my belly in all its glory! (sorry about the lack of clothing - I can't stand wearing clothes right now any more than I have to)
34 weeks:
So. I am 35 weeks pregnant today. Holy cow.
Everyone keeps asking "Are you excited?" and "Are you ready?"
The answer to the former is, Yes of course I am, but I am also a bit terrified and overwhelmed at the BIG change about to come into our lives. And honestly, I am grieving being so close to the end as well. I almost burst into tears at my last OB appt. This time has literally flown by and there are still so many things I *meant* to do to commemorate it. And although it has been a hard time in some ways, and certainly a time of reflection and growth and assessment - it has been really, truly, sweet. I love my pregnant body. I love the way my husband looks at my giant growing belly and smiles. I love dreaming about our child together. I love feeling him move and knowing he is safe and sound. I love the feeling of strength and beauty I have knowing I am carrying this life inside of me. And no, I won't miss not sleeping, or having massive acid reflux every night, or feeling like someone kicked me in my vagina - but I will miss pregnancy as a whole. I know, I know, ask me again in 3 weeks and see how I feel, right?
The answer to the latter question is pretty much, "Hell no" - we are so far from "ready" (whatever that means). My "to do" list is more than a page long and I will have to accomplish more than one thing on it per day to ensure we are all set for our Poblano. I have washed some of the baby clothes and erected the co-sleeper (it still needs bedding washed and to be attached to the bed) - I have ordered diapers (cloth) and some other items we are missing - but other than that? Yeah, total slacker. Which is no surprise really. I am a renowned procrastinator. I am the queen of getting things done at the last possible hour. I think I actually work better under that stress some times. But in this case, I am working against a really vague deadline. He could come weeks early, or weeks late, or anywhere in between. Doesn't give me a whole lot to work with there. We aren't setting up a nursery right away though, which saves me some work. He will be staying in our room with us for probably the first 6 months or so. We have a dresser for him and a co-sleeper. There's a changing table in our bathroom and we have a couple swings, bouncy seats, etc. that will reside upstairs and downstairs. So, shouldn't be too difficult, right?
Why does everything seem to take so much more time and effort than I could have imagined though? Take our search for a doula for example. We went to a "Meet the Doulas" night. It was good. Lots of good info. Met 4 doulas. No one really jumped out at us. We interviewed another doula at our home. She was really experienced and knowledgeable and would have done a great job, I am sure - but we just didn't "click" with her the way we hoped to. Then, I spent day after day emailing or calling doulas, only to get no response or to find out they aren't practicing any more or are already booked. FINALLY, this weekend we interviewed another doula and she really rocked. She isn't as experienced as some of the others we've looked at, but she has so many qualities that are such a good fit for us and she seems very knowledgeable and supportive. We connected right away and I felt really safe with her discussing some of my concerns and issues around the birth and preparing for it on a spiritual, psychological, emotional, and physical level. She also has a decade of experience as a counselor working with pregnant and postpartum women and is very familiar with post-partum depression. So, she will be very comfortable supporting me in assessing where I am at and getting the resources I will need if that becomes an issue for me. So, that is finally resolved - which is a huge relief - but gosh it seemed to take forever! Now I need to find a pediatrician. Yeah. I am not looking forward to that so much at all. But I have to have one by the time our Poblano arrives - so I better get on it.
Lots has happened in the last few weeks.
- We finished with our birthing classes. We took the Birthing From Within classes. It was a really great series. We met in the instructor's home, with only 2 other couples. It was small and intimate, and creative, and informative, and empowering. It gave us so much to work with - practical aspects like pain management practices and information about birth, emotional aspects like facing our fears and looking at our attitudes and beliefs about birth and about family, and spiritual aspects like making symbols and birth art, and thinking about how we want to welcome our child into the world.
- I had my baby shower this weekend. Two friends of mine hosted a sweet, intimate, meaningful, and fun shower for me. About 12 other women attended. We had great food (all of it was gluten-free, which is a sure-fire way to tell me you love me!) and each of the women said a blessing or wish for this new season coming upon us, or for our birth. And then there was the present opening. I could not have asked for a better shower. I felt so loved and cared for. But it was also really hard having all that attention on me in such an intense way. I had to literally keep coaching myself to stay calm and to keep my ears and my heart open to receive it all. By the end I was full, and completely exhausted.
- I met with my OB at 34 weeks and addressed with her my concerns about her maybe not being available for the birth and also about my wishes and hopes for our birth. It was an incredible conversation. I have sometimes been hesitant to advocate for myself so obviously - so it felt really good to speak up. She took lots of time with me and was really reassuring about everything. It would take volumes to report back all that we talked about and all that she said. But suffice to say I felt really heard and empowered and supported by the time I left her office and I feel so much more confident that our birth is something we will be active, educated participants in. Dr. Honey has been really consistent in addressing my concerns, fears, and questions with respect and compassion and without making me feel rushed or like the worry-wart I sometimes feel that I am. I pretty much adore her for that. In fact, this visit I again mentioned my worry that Poblano isn't moving quite as much as I would expect and without skipping a beat both she and the medical assistant offered to do another NST just to ease my worries. Of course he was just fine, and he did somersaults the entire testing time just to reassure me - but both of them just continued to tell me not to feel weird or embarrassed about asking to come in for this any time I might be afraid. After talking with others who have had to fight with their Dr.s to even be seen at times - I feel really fortunate to have ended up where I have.
And last but not least......I did manage to take a 34 week belly photo, although I am posting it a week late - here is my belly in all its glory! (sorry about the lack of clothing - I can't stand wearing clothes right now any more than I have to)
34 weeks:
December 01, 2008
Monday is for Music (2nd edition)
You know when you suddenly remember a band you used to listen to a decade ago and you go and find their music again and wow, it takes you right back to that time in your life - and surprisingly you still really like it?
This last week I was thinking of this group I used to listen to called Digable Planets. I first heard them in 1993, when I was introduced to them by my secret boyfriend and fellow theater major in college. He was a secret because I also had a boyfriend back in the town where I went to high school who I was trying to figure out how to break up with. (I was 18, my skills were lacking) So college boyfriend and I had these crazy adventures all over town made even more adventurous by our "secret status" and he was always introducing me to music I had never heard of as we would jam out and dance our butts off in my dorm room.
Then I ran off, after one year at college and moved to Denver, where my father was living. I had broken it off with high school boyfriend and college boyfriend and I were on the way out as well. I fell in with this group of hipster hippy funky friends who also listened to the Digable Planets and formed all new memories of dancing and laughing with this new group and of course, getting high. I felt so cool and free and the music seemed to match this new season of my life.
But after a year in Denver I took off yet again and drove across the country to move to Chicago. I had never been there, never met anyone there, and had only a few hundred bucks to my name. But within a very short time I was settled in and again had fallen in with an eclectic and diverse bunch of friends who embodied the full energy and creativity of the city. Some of these friends were poets, as was I. And we would ride the train up and down through the city and sit in dark smoky coffeehouses, coming up with new works for our spoken word performances and slam poetry competitions. Some wrote rap-inspired rhymes, others wrote free flowing verses, but no matter what, when you took to the stage you had to have rhythm. There too, I heard the sounds of Digable Planets and other rap/jazz/funk/ hip hop infused music. I heard it in my friends' apartments, I heard it wafting up from basement dance clubs along the street, heard it in dusty coffee houses, heard it spilling out of car windows as I walked past.
So, this week I pulled up some DPs on Pandora Radio and on You Tube and I was simultaneously taken through all three seasons in my life where they played a part in the soundtrack. I remembered dancing awkwardly in a dorm room in Albuquerque, sitting around at a house party in Denver, swaying to the beat, and walking into dark underground jazz clubs in Chicago to dance the night away and afterward run home and transform it all into something I would read later that week on stage, borrowing from the rhythms of the music I was enveloped in nights before.
There is a certain energy in their music, in their rhymes, that is indescribable. They are poetry, they are hip hop, they are life being lived, they are cool, smooth, and hip. They are real.
I am including a You Tube video here for one of their most popular songs - so you have likely heard this before. The setting of the video itself reminds me a lot of being at the famous Greenmill in Chicago every Sunday to perform spoken word and compete in slam poetry, it reminds me of the women's spoken word group I helped form and performed in at coffeehouses and bars throughout the city, and it also reminds me of the funk band I was briefly a part of in Chicago and the small stages and clubs we would perform at - the band's funky bass-laden rhythms laying down under my voice as I sang or spoke my words at the mic. But I could never really hope to be as cool as these three - even now, more than a decade later I watch this video in awe ...... check it out:
( and also? Poblano seems to LOVE this music!)
Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)
we jazz like that
we freak like that
we zoom like that
we out (we out)
This last week I was thinking of this group I used to listen to called Digable Planets. I first heard them in 1993, when I was introduced to them by my secret boyfriend and fellow theater major in college. He was a secret because I also had a boyfriend back in the town where I went to high school who I was trying to figure out how to break up with. (I was 18, my skills were lacking) So college boyfriend and I had these crazy adventures all over town made even more adventurous by our "secret status" and he was always introducing me to music I had never heard of as we would jam out and dance our butts off in my dorm room.
Then I ran off, after one year at college and moved to Denver, where my father was living. I had broken it off with high school boyfriend and college boyfriend and I were on the way out as well. I fell in with this group of hipster hippy funky friends who also listened to the Digable Planets and formed all new memories of dancing and laughing with this new group and of course, getting high. I felt so cool and free and the music seemed to match this new season of my life.
But after a year in Denver I took off yet again and drove across the country to move to Chicago. I had never been there, never met anyone there, and had only a few hundred bucks to my name. But within a very short time I was settled in and again had fallen in with an eclectic and diverse bunch of friends who embodied the full energy and creativity of the city. Some of these friends were poets, as was I. And we would ride the train up and down through the city and sit in dark smoky coffeehouses, coming up with new works for our spoken word performances and slam poetry competitions. Some wrote rap-inspired rhymes, others wrote free flowing verses, but no matter what, when you took to the stage you had to have rhythm. There too, I heard the sounds of Digable Planets and other rap/jazz/funk/ hip hop infused music. I heard it in my friends' apartments, I heard it wafting up from basement dance clubs along the street, heard it in dusty coffee houses, heard it spilling out of car windows as I walked past.
So, this week I pulled up some DPs on Pandora Radio and on You Tube and I was simultaneously taken through all three seasons in my life where they played a part in the soundtrack. I remembered dancing awkwardly in a dorm room in Albuquerque, sitting around at a house party in Denver, swaying to the beat, and walking into dark underground jazz clubs in Chicago to dance the night away and afterward run home and transform it all into something I would read later that week on stage, borrowing from the rhythms of the music I was enveloped in nights before.
There is a certain energy in their music, in their rhymes, that is indescribable. They are poetry, they are hip hop, they are life being lived, they are cool, smooth, and hip. They are real.
I am including a You Tube video here for one of their most popular songs - so you have likely heard this before. The setting of the video itself reminds me a lot of being at the famous Greenmill in Chicago every Sunday to perform spoken word and compete in slam poetry, it reminds me of the women's spoken word group I helped form and performed in at coffeehouses and bars throughout the city, and it also reminds me of the funk band I was briefly a part of in Chicago and the small stages and clubs we would perform at - the band's funky bass-laden rhythms laying down under my voice as I sang or spoke my words at the mic. But I could never really hope to be as cool as these three - even now, more than a decade later I watch this video in awe ...... check it out:
( and also? Poblano seems to LOVE this music!)
Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)
(Butterfly)
we like the breeze floats straight out of our lids
them they got moved by these hard rock brooklyn kids
us floor rush when the dj’s boomin classics
you dig the crew on the fattest hip hop record
he touch the kinks and sinks into the sounds
she frequents the fatter joints called undergrounds
our funk zooms like you hit the mary jane
they flock to booms man boogie had to change
who freaks the clips with mad amount percussion
where kinky hair goes to unthought of dimensions
why’s it so fly cause hip hop kept some drama
when butterfly rock the light blue suede pumas
what by the cut we push it off the corner
how was the buzz entire hip hop era
was fresh and fat since they started sayin outtie
cause funks made fat from right beneath my hoodie
the puba of the styles like miles and shit
like sixties funky worms wit waves and perms
just sendin chunky rhythms right down your block
we be to rap what key be to lock
but i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool like dat
i’m cool
(Ladybug)
we be the chocolates taps on my raps
she innovates at the sweeter cat naps
he at the funk club with the vibrate
them they be crazy down with the five nate
it can kick a plan then a crowst burst
me i be diggin it with the bug verse
us we be freakin till dawn beats and i
he yes a stranger smile so i say hi (wassup)
who understood, yeah, understood the plans?
him heard a beat and put it to his hands
what i just flip let borders get loose
how to consume all the beats just like juice
if its the shit we’ll lift it off the plastic
the babe’ll go spastic
hip hop gains a classic
pimp player shark it don’t matter i’m fatter
ask butter how i zone
(Butterfly)
man, cleopatra jones
(Ladybug)
and i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill like dat
i’m chill (chill)
(All)
blink, blink, blink, blink, blink
think, think, think, think, think
(Doodlebug)
we get you free cause the clips be fat boss
them dug the jams that commence to goin off
she sweats the beats and ask me could she puff it
me i got crew kid, seven and a crescent
us cause a buzz when the nickel bags a dealt
him that’s my man with the asteroid belt
they catch a fizz from the mr. doodlebig
he rocks a tee from the crooklyn nine pigs
rebirth of slick like my gangster stroll
the lyrics just like loot come in stacks and rolls
you used to find the bug in a box with fade
now he boogies up your stage plaits twist the braids
and i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m peace like that
i’m pace
(Butterfly)
check it out, man i groove like that
i’m smooth like that
i jive like that
i roll like that
(Ladybug)
yeah, i’m thick like that
i stack like that
i’m down like that
i’m black like that
(Doodlebug)
well yo, i funk like that
i’m fat like that
i’m in like that
cause i swing like that
we jazz like that
we freak like that
we zoom like that
we out (we out)
November 26, 2008
And the "mommy guilt" begins......
So, I lied. Or I forgot. Or both.
Last week at the end of my "32 week" post I said I would take my 32 week belly pic and post it later. Now, it hasn't been all that uncommon for me to slack off and not post a belly pic in a timely fashion. And this time I had some good excuses as our internet went down, we prepared for company, company arrived, etc. etc. But this time?
I completely spaced taking the picture. I have no 32 week belly shot. And it appears I am well into forgetting to take one at 33 weeks as well, since that landmark is passing me by as we speak.
No big deal right? Except I haven't been consistent on writing letters to our Pepper either and I feel like he will one day look through what I wrote and collected during this pregnancy and wonder why there was an entire month between photos and much more than that between journal entries or letters to or about him.
And I know he may not even care, but I also know that he might. I recently acquired my own baby book from my mother and I was surprised at the intensity with which I poured over every written detail and photo. From who attended my mother's baby shower, to pictures of me with the family cat. I wanted clues to this period of time, this time I cannot and will never remember, I wanted to know how my parents felt about me, how I affected their lives, what my life was like in those early days and weeks and years.
So, I feel like something as small as forgetting to document my 32nd week of pregnancy with an appropriate photo could leave a hole in the narrative I have to offer my son. And I realize already that there are so many holes, so many days and weeks undocumented. So many moments when I look down at my growing belly with absolute awe, and feel him move and whisper, "I love you" - that I have never ever written down. And I worry he might never know just how in love I am with him already at this moment, how in love I am with being pregnant, how this is truly the greatest and most amazing time of my entire life and that in many ways it is all because of him.
So here it is. Written down. In case I forget to tell him.
Little man, you are so deeply wanted and loved. I am so honored and happy to be your mama and to have the priviledge to carry you, nourish you, and bring you into this world. I will forget many things, I already have. But I will never ever forget to love you.
Last week at the end of my "32 week" post I said I would take my 32 week belly pic and post it later. Now, it hasn't been all that uncommon for me to slack off and not post a belly pic in a timely fashion. And this time I had some good excuses as our internet went down, we prepared for company, company arrived, etc. etc. But this time?
I completely spaced taking the picture. I have no 32 week belly shot. And it appears I am well into forgetting to take one at 33 weeks as well, since that landmark is passing me by as we speak.
No big deal right? Except I haven't been consistent on writing letters to our Pepper either and I feel like he will one day look through what I wrote and collected during this pregnancy and wonder why there was an entire month between photos and much more than that between journal entries or letters to or about him.
And I know he may not even care, but I also know that he might. I recently acquired my own baby book from my mother and I was surprised at the intensity with which I poured over every written detail and photo. From who attended my mother's baby shower, to pictures of me with the family cat. I wanted clues to this period of time, this time I cannot and will never remember, I wanted to know how my parents felt about me, how I affected their lives, what my life was like in those early days and weeks and years.
So, I feel like something as small as forgetting to document my 32nd week of pregnancy with an appropriate photo could leave a hole in the narrative I have to offer my son. And I realize already that there are so many holes, so many days and weeks undocumented. So many moments when I look down at my growing belly with absolute awe, and feel him move and whisper, "I love you" - that I have never ever written down. And I worry he might never know just how in love I am with him already at this moment, how in love I am with being pregnant, how this is truly the greatest and most amazing time of my entire life and that in many ways it is all because of him.
So here it is. Written down. In case I forget to tell him.
Little man, you are so deeply wanted and loved. I am so honored and happy to be your mama and to have the priviledge to carry you, nourish you, and bring you into this world. I will forget many things, I already have. But I will never ever forget to love you.
November 18, 2008
32 weeks and all's well
Had my 32 week appt today. Nothing too exciting. My uterus is measuring just a tad big, like just under a week ahead. Blood pressure is nice and low, baby's heartrate was great and he seems to be vertex (head down). All is well.
I came in a bit tearful though. I had been noticing the Poblano didn't seem to be moving as regularly over the last week or so, and this morning he was really abnormally quiet. So, I got myself all worried and worked up even though I know when I've done official "kick counts" I've gotten good results. But sometimes I still can't stop my mind from wandering into "worst case scenario" territory.
So. The nurse very kindly ordered a NST (non-stress test) for me. And as soon as I leaned back into the cushy recliner with the monitors strapped acros my belly and the "kick counter" firmly in hand - our little Poblano decided to put on quite a show. I laughed as he rolled and kicked and pushed almost constantly throughout the entire 20 minutes. Maybe he just needed an audience?
Regardless, he is doing just fine. His heartrate showed a great pattern and he obviously is moving well and I didn't have any contractions - so all is well on the uterine front. Whew!
The only sort of bad news is that my doctor is out of town the entire week of my due date. She also was out of town this week and will be out of town for the week of my 38 week appt - dang! I don't fault her for going on vacation, or whatever she might be doing, but is it too much to ask that she postpone these trips for a few more months?
Anyhow, I am beyond happy that Poblano is growing and moving and getting ready to come out and join us soon. I will post a 32 week belly pic later tonight.
I came in a bit tearful though. I had been noticing the Poblano didn't seem to be moving as regularly over the last week or so, and this morning he was really abnormally quiet. So, I got myself all worried and worked up even though I know when I've done official "kick counts" I've gotten good results. But sometimes I still can't stop my mind from wandering into "worst case scenario" territory.
So. The nurse very kindly ordered a NST (non-stress test) for me. And as soon as I leaned back into the cushy recliner with the monitors strapped acros my belly and the "kick counter" firmly in hand - our little Poblano decided to put on quite a show. I laughed as he rolled and kicked and pushed almost constantly throughout the entire 20 minutes. Maybe he just needed an audience?
Regardless, he is doing just fine. His heartrate showed a great pattern and he obviously is moving well and I didn't have any contractions - so all is well on the uterine front. Whew!
The only sort of bad news is that my doctor is out of town the entire week of my due date. She also was out of town this week and will be out of town for the week of my 38 week appt - dang! I don't fault her for going on vacation, or whatever she might be doing, but is it too much to ask that she postpone these trips for a few more months?
Anyhow, I am beyond happy that Poblano is growing and moving and getting ready to come out and join us soon. I will post a 32 week belly pic later tonight.
November 17, 2008
Monday is for Music
I am not really musically talented in any way. I took violin lessons in elementary school for a year (I think) and really liked it. (Although, I was really into country music at that time and tried to play it with furious speed like a fiddle, in my closet) But that was really my only "formal" music education.
I did land a spot as lead singer in a funky band in Chicago when I was 20 and it was totally a dream come true. But, honestly? I am not a particularly gifted singer either.
But I love music. I loooooovvvvvveeee it. Not necessarily in the same way a musically educated person would appreciate it. No, I think it's the poet in me - but I love music that reaches something deep inside of me and either gives it a voice or speaks to it. I love when a song can catch my breath and cause tears to well up in my eyes. Or, when music makes my whole body want to move and dance. There is a soul language in music that I am drawn to.
Because of this, there are certain artists or groups that I become very devoted to. They become like close friends, confessors, prophets, teachers.....and I go back to them again and again.
Last night, as Mr. Spicy and I sat in our car outside of our birthing class, one of these groups - a group that we have both been devoted to for years, a group that has for us separately and together, acted as a soundtrack through many many important seasons in our lives - U2, came on the radio. Without even speaking, Mr. Spicy reached over and turned up the radio. We sat in silence and as the song began, first I began singing, then he began singing, until we were both singing at the top of our lungs and tears were being wiped from our eyes as we sang along, "I'm wide awake....." - offering these words up to something bigger, as a prayer, as a gratitude, as a realization that we are here in this moment, this is our lives, this is our world, this is really happening - the good, the bad, all of it. We are not sleeping.
And that, for me, was like attending a church - inhabiting a sacred space, praying, crying out, and being ministered to all at once.
I have experiences like this fairly often and thought maybe I would start sharing what song has moved me that week, right here. I am not promising to do it weekly, as consistency isn't always my strong suit. But - eh, here's the first installment. And hey, if you want to - why don't you join in and post an important song for you on your blog and put the link in my comments? Then I will add you to a list on my blog and we can have our own little Monday music party. Even if you don't blog about it, I would love to hear what music is moving you right now, and why?
This week's song was "Bad" by U2. I am embedding the video for it and the lyrics will follow.
I am madly, insanely, without remorse, in love with Bono. I know he is a flawed human being like the rest of us. I know his wife probably rolls her eyes at him from time to time, just like I do to Mr. Spicy. But wow. When he sings? I honestly feel he is channeling the divine. I am completely certain he is a prophet, speaking to the hearts, the minds, the suffering, and the glory of our time.
So many of U2's songs hold immense meaning and power. They feel like prayers, like challenges, like places of comfort and hope and lament. And depending what is happening with me at any given time, what speaks to me in any particular song of theirs can dramatically shift. It is like reading a sacred text. It feels alive and able to bring different meanings depending on when and by whom it is heard. Their understanding of the human condition, of suffering, of the heart, their passion for social justice and change - and their ability to communicate that...wow.
So, without further ado.....here it is:
Bad - U2
If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would
Let it go
Surrender
Dislocate
If I could throw this
Lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame
If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day
To let it go
And so to fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no, no
If you should ask then maybe they'd
Tell you what I would say
True colors fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes
If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go...
This desperation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so to fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no, no
I did land a spot as lead singer in a funky band in Chicago when I was 20 and it was totally a dream come true. But, honestly? I am not a particularly gifted singer either.
But I love music. I loooooovvvvvveeee it. Not necessarily in the same way a musically educated person would appreciate it. No, I think it's the poet in me - but I love music that reaches something deep inside of me and either gives it a voice or speaks to it. I love when a song can catch my breath and cause tears to well up in my eyes. Or, when music makes my whole body want to move and dance. There is a soul language in music that I am drawn to.
Because of this, there are certain artists or groups that I become very devoted to. They become like close friends, confessors, prophets, teachers.....and I go back to them again and again.
Last night, as Mr. Spicy and I sat in our car outside of our birthing class, one of these groups - a group that we have both been devoted to for years, a group that has for us separately and together, acted as a soundtrack through many many important seasons in our lives - U2, came on the radio. Without even speaking, Mr. Spicy reached over and turned up the radio. We sat in silence and as the song began, first I began singing, then he began singing, until we were both singing at the top of our lungs and tears were being wiped from our eyes as we sang along, "I'm wide awake....." - offering these words up to something bigger, as a prayer, as a gratitude, as a realization that we are here in this moment, this is our lives, this is our world, this is really happening - the good, the bad, all of it. We are not sleeping.
And that, for me, was like attending a church - inhabiting a sacred space, praying, crying out, and being ministered to all at once.
I have experiences like this fairly often and thought maybe I would start sharing what song has moved me that week, right here. I am not promising to do it weekly, as consistency isn't always my strong suit. But - eh, here's the first installment. And hey, if you want to - why don't you join in and post an important song for you on your blog and put the link in my comments? Then I will add you to a list on my blog and we can have our own little Monday music party. Even if you don't blog about it, I would love to hear what music is moving you right now, and why?
This week's song was "Bad" by U2. I am embedding the video for it and the lyrics will follow.
I am madly, insanely, without remorse, in love with Bono. I know he is a flawed human being like the rest of us. I know his wife probably rolls her eyes at him from time to time, just like I do to Mr. Spicy. But wow. When he sings? I honestly feel he is channeling the divine. I am completely certain he is a prophet, speaking to the hearts, the minds, the suffering, and the glory of our time.
So many of U2's songs hold immense meaning and power. They feel like prayers, like challenges, like places of comfort and hope and lament. And depending what is happening with me at any given time, what speaks to me in any particular song of theirs can dramatically shift. It is like reading a sacred text. It feels alive and able to bring different meanings depending on when and by whom it is heard. Their understanding of the human condition, of suffering, of the heart, their passion for social justice and change - and their ability to communicate that...wow.
So, without further ado.....here it is:
Bad - U2
If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would
Let it go
Surrender
Dislocate
If I could throw this
Lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame
If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day
To let it go
And so to fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no, no
If you should ask then maybe they'd
Tell you what I would say
True colors fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes
If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go...
This desperation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so to fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no, no, no
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)