Nightly Cup of Actualization

Had a MW appointment tonight. I'm swelling, which looks gross, but doesn't necessarily indicate a problem, as it goes right away when I change positions or get up and move. My BP's elevated, but not seriously, and she took it during a contraction, so it wasn't exactly going to be baseline. My urine dip and Fidget looked great though, so all is well. :)

Emotionally, I've had such a rough time this pregnancy that I've been really concerned that it's inhibiting labor. So I sat down today to think about what's been bugging me.

This biggest stressor the last few months has been the Playgroup Incident. In spite of constant reassurance by those around me, I haven't quite been able to bring myself to realize that I'm okay. I'm a darn good mom, and my son is just wonderful. I've been paranoid as hell about any comments about my child's weight, height, hair color, clothing, or anything that even remotely came up as a "concern" during The Incident. I've been so worried about having two, even though I haven't wanted to admit it. If someone thinks I'm so horrible at mothering one child, how am I going to be able to deal with two of them? And what if this one's skinnier than N was? Then what am I going to do? Answer?

Simple, really--I'm going to mother my boys.

The social worker was thoroughly impressed with the care with which B and I researched the positions she considered unorthodox. She was completely satisfied with our explanations for our reasons for delaying vaccinations, and was genuinely (personally) interested in why we chose midwifery care over obstetrics. She accepted without skepticism my explanation for refusing to give N ferrous sulfate drops. She seemed impressed by our combination of allopathic and traditional medicine She had the report declaring us officially just dandy parents finished the evening she did our interview (2 days before Thanksgiving), and we haven't heard a peep out of her since.

The bottom line? N's iron levels came up because of the work I did. His weight increased because I took him to doctors until I found an answer that made sense. He is healthy, fed, and happy. My pregnancy has physically gone smoothly because I do the work and the research to make the best choices for me and my baby.

The social worker was shocked walking in the door to find a happy, obviously thriving child and family. She was expecting a child in trouble. She found a child blossoming under the loving care of his parents. She left with the words, "I love these visits. It's so nice to see a family that is doing so well."

The bottom line is that I was right. I was absolutely right. I have not at all screwed up in the raising of my child, and I will not screw up in the raising of this child.

I gave birth to N. My body, with God's grace, gave him life. I brought him into the world, and I care for him now that he's here. I will give birth to his brother as well, and will mother that child with all of the love I have.

I am powerful.

I am woman.

I am a mother.

Bring on the New One. I'm ready. :)

A Temper Tantrum

I want to have a baby. I go through this whoooooole pregnancy thing just so I can get the cute little baby. I'm tired of Fertility Goddess. Give me the kid.

You'd think that if my body feels the need to be so rude as to wake me between 3 and 5am, it would at least have the courtesy to be in labor or something. No dice. @@ It's now 4:45am, I'm just now starting to get remotely sleepy again, and I'll have to be up in 2.5 hours to take DH to work (or I can sleep in and then get stuck in the house all day with a toddler who keeps asking for, "Outside? Outside? Out, out, out?" only to make a dash for the street as soon as we do get outside @@). I feel like a really pissy cat who has her claws out all the time, and I'm sick of it. I want me back. I nearly bit poor Dh's head off when he saw the light on in here and came to ask if I was okay. DOESN'T HE THINK I'D TELL HIM IF I WERE IN LABOR OR NEEDED HIM?!?!?!?!? He's the one catching the baby fercryinoutloud, I'm not about to have him miss it.

Sorry.Yes, I'm well aware I'm not even due yet and that a due date is only an estimate. Being reminded of this knowledge is absolutely no consolation whatsoever, as Ian was already out by now, and I think Fidget's decided to take up residence here permanently (yes, I know, no one's pregnant forever--don't say that to me either). I'm 39.5 weeks pregnant, my skin is stretched absolutely to the limit (as in brand-new stretch marks everywhere, and the old ones itch like crazy), and if one more person calls just to say, "Had that baby yet?" they're going to hear the phone go sailing through a window. Heaven help the next moron who asks me that in person. I'm measuring 43 weeks, which, incidentally, now that I go back and look at the reports, is larger than I measured with my first child, and I just went back and looked at belly pictures from labor with him. I'm way bigger this time, and my body is refusing to do anything more than send tons and tons of prodromal labor my way. Going on 3 days now, and I'm sick of it.

I. Want. This. Kid. Out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As an update, I posted this on my due date board, went to the bathroom, and discovered that I am actually losing my mucous plug--woo! Who'd have thought a snotty glob of mucous would be such a happydance inducing thing?

Squeaking in

Just in time to get this post up for Easter. It would have been awesome to have delivered today. I couldn't think of a more appropriate way to celebrate the occasion of death being defeated by bringing a new life into the world.


Unfortunately, that's not to be today.....

So today

I had a midwife appointment. It went really well. She did tell me today that legally, she has to use my LMP due date (which puts me due oh, this past Monday) on the charts, and if I actually make my due date by ovulation (and sonogram), that she'll have to send me in to the OB for a checkup. That's fine, I've already got a visit for 4/5 scheduled just for the heck of it. My weight gain is holding steady at around 60lbs, my blood pressure's in the range of normal for me at this point in pregnancy, and my urine dip was "perfect" :::giggle, snort::: I have perfect pee. :P

Anyway, Fidget's heartrate is a lovely 130s-140s with good accelerations, and N was a sweetie during the measuring (43cm, still), and patted my belly and kissed it, and kept his hand on my belly while we were checking the heart tones. MW's going to leave a doppler here for us, so we can check FHTs on our own, since Fidget's slowed down. He's pretty much run out of room, and he's always been calmer than Ian was anyway. The MWs are estimating his weight to be around 8.5lbs, which is about what Ian was at this gestation. Speaking of gestation, I'm irked. I know when I ovulated, the sonogram date confirms it. I hate, hate, hate that my LMP is even being considered here at all. Bah!

B woke up this morning with a 102 degree fever. @@ Timing. Seriously. I love the man, but he's going to drive me nuts with his ill-timed illnesses. This is the second one in two months that he's managed to pull. I know, it's because he works so hard that his body has to force him to take breaks, but geez, can't his body force him to take breaks in a way that doesn't involve a doctor wanting to put him on Very Expensive Antibiotics, especially when we just spent the last of our money on Not So Expensive Antibiotics? Oh well, so, as enormously pregnant as I am, it looks like this baby will be staying put for a few days. I guess that's okay, I really need the sleep.

I think I'll call my mom tomorrow and have her watch N while I go swimming. I need to rest a bit, and that involves me, a swimming pool, and a nice, toasty shower afterward.

La la laaaaaaaaaaaaa

:::ahem:::
Happy 38 weeks to meeeeeeeeee,
Happy 38 weeks to meeeeeeeeee,
Happy 38 weeks to Fidget and Mee-heeeeeee,

Happy 38 weeks to meeeeeeeee.

Now--Get. Out.

Yeah...so this is long...and from yesterday

I had a MW appointment tonight involving higher than normal BP (for me) and swelling that got me confined to the couch with half a small tumbler of Guinness (as we don't have any wine) and a huge glass of water for the rest of the evening. At this point pre-e is not a concern, as my urine dip was protein and other pre-e indicator-free, and it's an isolated high BP, not a consistent one. She'll check on me in a day or two, and I'm under orders to sleep in tomorrow, as not getting enough rest appears to be a main trigger of high BP for me.
She said based on how I'm looking and how I appear to be feeling (extremely freaking pregnant, and snarky as hell), she really doesn't think I'll go much longer. B had to go into work to do inventory tonight, so she told me I could get up and do basic N care, but that after that, it was back to couch with a cup of chamomile tea. I have the cup of tea now, just so no one throws anything at me. :P She initially wasn't going to make another appointment for me for next week (thinking I won't make it that long), but I made her do it anyway. I just know if we didn't, I'll be pregnant forever.

Of course, this is the time N decides to make it clear just why he wasn't eating the last two days. He played nicely (in our kid-proof living room) and let me take a nap, after which I felt much better. He'd been gassy all day, so when his diaper had a suspicious smell, I thought I'd wait and make sure he was done and had actually done something before beginning the Diaper Wrestling Event. Biiiig mistake. Add up these three things: 1) Kid who has selectively eaten pretty much only wheaty, fiber-rich "digestive biscuits" for the last two days 2) Kid who hasn't had a dirty diaper in the last 4 days and 3) Kid who's seen other kids with the Nastiest Stomach Bug Ever a few times over the last couple of weeks. The result? 4 large spots of diaper leakage on my floor and a couple of toys. Thank goodness it got the wood and not the carpet.
So, even though I'm supposed to have been couch-rested for the evening, I get to wrestle my stinky, poop-dripping toddler into the bathtub. I run a bit of water without the rubber plug just to get him rinsed off, and notice that it's draining reeeeeeeeeeeally slowly. So, with naked, not-quite-clean kid playing at the other end of the tub (by playing, I mean picking up my shampoo bottles and chucking them at the inch and a half of water just to make them splash poopy water everywhere), I grab the plunger, and try to get the clog loose. Yes, disgusting I know, but the kid washes, and no way in hell am I letting a still-poopish child run naked anywhere in my house. After waiting for all of the water to slooooooooowly drain while dodging shampoo bottles (I did manage to finally distract him with a smiley face squirted in citrus shave gel on the wall), I then realized that yes, the rubber plug hadn't been used, but that the supremely obnoxious metal plug was still in place, and was apparently holding things up. @@
So then I call B about to melt down because I'm nine months pregnant, my kid apparently has a horrible stomach bug, I'm supposed to be avoiding any situation that might cause me stress, and he's at work and can't come take care of me or the bathroom that smells like little kid diarrhea. He sends me a sympatheitc "sucks to be you" (in nicer words than that), and tells me he'll be home as soon as he can.
I spend the next ten minutes trying to convince my happily splashing child that he must get out of the bathtub now, no, NOW, and come put his towel on. It takes offering the "Precious Papoose" song to get him out and he takes off sans towel as soon as his little feet hit the bath mat. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I actually look a hell of a lot better than I did earlier that evening. Figures. I track down the little nudist, wrap him in his towel, settle in to sing the promised song, and get shoved away with a "No!" He looooooooves Papoose. Why won't he let me sing it to him?
I wrestle him into his diaper and pjs, and it then takes him 45 minutes to nurse to sleep. B calls at minute 40, with N's eyes poised on the brink of Out, to tell me he's on his way home. I'm relieved, but geez, timing.
Fortunately, 5 minutes later, Out is reached by the small one, B is home, the spots on the floor and bathroom are cleaned up, and I am packed off to the kitchen to get my chamomile tea and throw together the no-bake oatmeal cookies (literally a 5 minute endeavor) I've been craving for the last two days. B goes to bed, and I, in my sleepy glory, am sitting at the computer with my tea, waiting for my cookies to cool, and then I am going to bed and following the midwife's orders to sleep in tomorrow. N will join us in our room sometime tonight, I'm sure, and since he didn't go down until 1, he'll sleep in too....at least, he'd better.
One more high point to the evening: This weekend, B's cousin, her husband, and B's aunt (well, ex-aunt, technically) are coming down with A's (cousin's) two kids to McPherson to see B's parents. I have NO desire to go. I like Aunt K, R's a nice guy, A's fine and the kids are cute, but I am extremely cranky, and have absolutely zippo patience with regards to in-law interaction at this stage of my pregnancy. B asked D (midwife) if I could go, and she said that under no circumstances am I to be stuck in the car for an hour, and that I am to be spending next week walking through botanical gardens and swimming, and avoiding situations that cause any tension or stress like the plague. Soooo, guess who got out of a trip to the ILs this weekend? B may not get to go either. I know it's only an hour away, but I'm really not sure I want him or N that far away from me right now.

:::sigh:::

Okay, I know. I'm not even due yet. I'm okay with that. Really I am. I know this little one needs to stay in as long as his/her body tells him/her to. And I'm fine with that. I know that no one is pregnant forever, and aside from not being able to bend at the waist, sit with my legs together, put on my own socks, shave my own legs, etc, I'm really not even that uncomfortable. I certainly haven't hit the "I can't take being pregnant another minute" stage (actually, I hit it at 28 weeks, but I got over it and am now physically just fine with being pregnant thankyouverymuch). I know I'm really blessed to have had two wonderful, easy pregnancies, and that everything looks perfect and healthy. I know that. I'm truly grateful for it. But can I whine just one teeny bit? In the last 5 days, there have been 4, count them 4 babies born IRL to people close to us, that's not even counting all of the email loop and due date board babies born this last week (which seem to number around oh, a million). A friend called me last night to say, "Um...if someone's about 3 weeks away from her due date, and she has a gush of something that doesn't smell like pee and soaks her pants completely, could that be anything but her water?" It's not fair. :::flail::: You can't call the woman who's 37 weeks pregnant and having a serious case of baby envy to ask if she thinks your best friend's in labor. It doesn't help that since I had N at just barely over 38 weeks, everyone and their dog thinks history is going to repeat itself and I'll be popping this kid out any second now. The answering machine messages I'm getting now state, "Well, I guess I'll try you on your cell, and if I don't get you there, I'll just hope you're in labor.....call me back if you're not or when you've had the baby." I almost want to refuse to return their call on principle, or just tell them we had the baby and forgot to tell them. It also doesn't help that due to DH's leave availability from work (he gets a whopping 3 days paternity leave), tomorrow would be the ideal day to give birth. As I mentioned before, physically, I'm still doing pretty well with being pregnant. I'm measuring 43 weeks, but other than the new stretch marks and decreased mobility that come with being so huge, I'm really not too uncomfortable. Regular chiro appointments have gotten the pubic pain to almost nothing, and people still tell me that from the back, they can't tell I'm pregnant (and then they see the front and their eyes bug out). I can easily see this kid just sitting here, happy as a clam until after 40 weeks, just to throw everyone else for a loop and drive me insane. :) Just so there's no concern, the only thing I'm doing herbally or otherwise to prepare for labor other than walking is taking RRL capsules. I'd like to finish my GBS treatment first, so the kid's gotta give it at least 3 more days. I haven't even started EPO yet, and I'll probably wait on that until closer to 40 weeks. So I refuse to do anything to make this little munchkin come out before s/he's ready. Just wanted to make that clear. It's just frustrating when everyone around you is having babies. I held one the other day that was the same size N was when he was born, and I've been flattened by the newborn bug. I just had to get that out somewhere, and here strikes me as the best place. I'm still fine with being pregnant, but I am very ready to snuggle my newborn.

There's a baby around here somewhere, and I want to kiss it. :)

10 minutes

That's how much time I spent today convincing N to come back over to the couch to put his diaper on. The kid insisted on leaving his pants around his ankles, every once in a while checking to make sure his "nee-niss" was still there (it's a recent discovery), and playing with his puzzle. I finally talked him into it by tempting him with bites of oatmeal (with applesauce and milk, a favorite of his) and his beloved Noo. I'd have gotten off of my rear end and brought him over to the couch, but our couch is very deep, and I'm just too friggin' huge to get up off of it unless I absolutely need to.

The only other thing N's wanted to do today is Noo. I sit down at the computer, "Noo?" I sit on the couch and he climbs up in my lap. "Noo peess?" "No baby, not yet." "Nooooo."

He is cutting his 2 year molars (which means after this, we'll be done until he's almost 4--whee!), so I think that's most of the reason for this sudden increased desire. I just wish teething saliva didn't tear my poor noo to shreds. But I think he also knows that there's someone else coming soon (think the move to his own room might have been a dead giveaway?), and that his time with his Noo being just his Noo is getting shorter.

I'm feeling a sense of sadness watching his baby and only child days draw to a close, but I am really looking forward to the birth of this new little one. N's going to eventually be an awesome big brother, and I am so excited to see him in action.

Tuesday's child...

...is a stinker. N refused to go to bed tonight. I think it's because our thermostat is malfunctioning, and B turned the heat up to 83 when the house thermometer was reading 60. So miraculously, for the first time all day, the heater immediately raises the house temp to 80. N's like me, and can't sleep when it's hot. So that's probably why he went to bed at 11. In his own room. In his own bed. Hopefully he'll sleep all night. It would help.

I sent a nice email to the author of the article I mentioned in the post before last. He sent me a response asking if I wanted it used as a letter to the editor. I said sure. Unfortunately, I've realized we're the only people with our last name in the phone book here, and My Fair City is full of cranky weirdos with unresolved issues involving breastfeeding. We'll see what happens. Now I have to go buy copies of the paper for the next few days.

I had an OB appointment yesterday. Things look great. OB asked if I had been having any contractions, I said, yes, and he said, "Well, if you want, you can start pushing with them, but it may take you a while to get the baby out," with a big smile on his face. If I ever need to go the traditional OB route, I could easily feel comfortable using this guy.

What a day

Today is the birthday of A's twins. For those that are unaware, Lily passed away at the age of two months from SIDS. One of the members of our online community made a scrapbook for A and her family, and posted the pics today. I looked through them, and through the pictures I took on N and my trip to Lily's funeral. It seems somehow appropriate to type out her name even though I use initials for everyone else. She should be known. Going through the pictures today, it hit me again what a tremendous little personality was lost. You could tell she was a bubbly baby. Nothing was going to keep her down. I am so, so heartbroken that I didn't get to meet her.

N is awake now. He should be asleep, but he stirred, and he needed his last dose of antibiotic for the day, and since it's pure sugar, he's now wide awake. That's okay though. I'm so grateful for the chance to just hold him.

Hey Bloggity Types...

Link this article: Wichita Eagle 03/04/2005 RANDY SCHOLFIELD: IF MEN COULD BREAST-FEED

I wish more people in my state felt this way. Maybe then we could get that ridiculous "discreetly" out of HB 2284.