Charlie's Birth Story

October 4th- My Mom's birthday, naturally with my due date being so close and Mumbles having been a little early, we've all mused about the possibility of Charlie and Mom sharing birthdays. After all the nonsense with the insurance and a couple false alarms, I had pretty much resolved to stop thinking about it. The truth was, I wasn't ready to not be pregnant anymore. I loved being pregnant and I didn't feel miserable like a lot of women do toward the end. Of course I was excited to see and hold my baby but I knew I would miss feeling him kick and the sense that as long as he was in there, he would be safe and happy. Once he was out in the world, he'd feel cold and hunger and loneliness. There would be times when he'd cry and I wouldn't know immediately how to help him. I always hated when Mumbles cried. Still do.
At any rate, it was a Monday not much different than any other Monday. I snapped a quick picture of myself in the bathroom mirror before leaving for what would be another boring day at the office. While I was at work, I decided to re-read the amazing birth stories of a few women who'd shared them via Facebook. For whatever reason, the stories of two sisters stuck out in my mind, specifically, the fact that they both felt 'crampy' right before their labors began.
After dinner, Micha and I took the dogs on a long walk. Truthfully, most walks any further than a couple blocks were long considering my need to be in close proximity to a bathroom at all times. On our way back, I felt 'crampy'. Not wanting to read too much into it only to be another false alarm, I blew it off. I thought to myself 'I'm looking for it because I read Kim and Kristin's birth stories.' I didn't think much more about it and went to bed. I woke up the usual five times to go to the bathroom, each time feeling 'crampy' but again I thought to myself that it was just because my bladder was full.

October 5th- When my alarm went off at 5:30 am, I woke up still feeling crampy. The cramps always went away but I didn't want to drive all the way into to work, only to have to turn around. I sent my boss a text message saying it was too early to tell but I thought I might be in labor but that I would be in later if I wasn't. I woke Micha up and told him I thought I was really close. Mumbles got on her bus like usual. I called my Mom and gave her kind of the 'please stand by'. I timed three contractions and they were about eight minutes apart. I called my Mom back. She's about three hours from us and I wanted her to have plenty of time to get here. Micha made me a good, stick-to-your-ribs breakfast: Malt-O-Meal and two eggs and then ran me a warm bath. I soaked in the tub while he loaded the car, put more air in my exercise ball, installed the car seat and packed his own bag. I felt pretty good in the tub and then I got out. I got dressed and tried to make sure I had everything but the contractions felt like they were coming very quickly and they were definitely more painful. I'd get down on all fours or lean over my ball and breath through them. We decided we should time a couple more. They were about 5 to 6 minutes apart. Micha called the doctor's office and they told him we should go ahead and come in. Micha was ready to go, I however; did not want to leave my bedroom. I wanted to get back in my bath tub and stay there. Getting into the car for the 15 minute ride to the hospital was the last place I wanted to be. I started to feel overwhelmed and I told Micha it hurt too much and I wanted the epidural. He said he didn't blame me and let's get in the car to which I shook my head 'no'. We did finally make it to the car and out the drive way but we had to stop after a couple blocks because I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. The idea of puking terrified me. I was pretty sure it was going to hurt so I didn't. I knew I had to do something to get on top of my contractions so I started listening to one of my meditations on my iPhone. By the time we got to the interstate, I was starting to feel more in control.
We arrived at the hospital and a very nice but ill-informed volunteer wheeled me up to the 5th floor but sent Micha to patient registration (which we'd already done). I tried not to be rude but she kept talking to me and I was feeling less than social. We got to my room and my nurse Kerri was extremely helpful. She didn't bother me while I was contracting and kept telling me I was doing great. Poor Micha was running through the hospital getting forms for me to sign. It seemed like he was gone forever and I still had to be hooked up to the monitors for 15 to 20 minutes. I didn't want to lay down so I sat in the rocker but every contraction made me want to rip off the monitors and throw them in the toilet. I wanted to be on all fours or in the tub or anywhere but that damn chair. Micha asked Kerri how dilated I was and she said about 5 or 6 and my contractions where about 2 minutes apart. The phlebotomist came to take my blood and asked me about my name. I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to listen to my relaxation meditation on my phone, which rang in the middle of a contraction. It was my best friend. I told Micha to deal with her. I was getting overwhelmed again and couldn't get on top of my contractions. I felt out of control. I was having these little contractions between contractions, making it impossible to get caught up. When Micha said I might not need the epidural after all, I said I wanted it. Kerri started IV fluids and my Mom arrived shortly after.

Once I had the epidural, I had to stay in bed. I watched Breakfast at Tiffany's with no sound, and chatted with my Mom and Micha. It took quite awhile for Charlie to get himself in just the right spot which actually turned out to be good because Dr. MacFarlane was with another patient (maybe an emergency?) He did come in to check me and when he did my water broke. It was still quite some time before it was time to start pushing. Kerri helped me get Charlie down most of the way and then called Dr MacFarlane...and got his voice mail! I could tell Micha was starting to get nervous but Mom and I stayed calm and it wasn't long and the Doctor arrived. I honestly don't remember his presence there, just the sound of my mother's voice encouraging me to either push or breath and the song on my iPhone (I'd left one of my ear buds in). Charlie arrived to "I Can't Help Falling in Love" as sung by Micheal Buble, which I think is totally appropriate. Then I heard her say she could see his head so I reached down to feel, no hair (and I had all that heartburn!) I probably only pushed for half an hour. Time does something funny when you are in labor. It either stands still or it flies by. It seemed like my Mom got to the hospital amazingly quickly while it seemed like Micha was gone for ever. Pushing seemed to take just a few moments. I hadn't had enough of the epidural to make me completely numb. I still felt my contractions and I still felt Charlie moving through me, it just didn't register as pain, just a sensation. I could see his head and I knew it wasn't the right color but I just kept focusing on what my Mom was saying and then he was out. He was blue from the umbilical cord being wrapped around him but they put him on my abdomen and started rubbing him with a towel. He looked surprised and then he let out a cry. After a couple minutes I heard the nurse say "I like that color much better." Charlie had 'pinked' up and looked perfect. I looked up at Micha and he was fighting back tears (my Mom and sister had a bet over whether or not he would cry). I watched while they clamped the cord and showed Micha what to do. Dr. MacFarlane stitched me up, told us we did great and congratulated us and left. The nurses went shortly after that and then it was just us for a little while. I'm sure there was other stuff going on in the world at 5:02 pm on October 5th but I wouldn't have known it.

The Meltdown

In yesterdays post, Are we there yet?, I talked about my stupid insurance company, with their stupid deductible and all the stupid people who think it's just as simple as making the baby come before the end of the month. A few hours after posting, I thought I might have been leaking amnio fluid. I tried not to get excited about it and for 45 minutes, tried to figure out whether I was just peeing my pants, a drop at a time or if it was in fact my water. Finally, I decided to just go to my doctor's office and have them do the test. I knew if I didn't Micha and I would just be freaking out all night. Turns out, I was just peeing myself. Awesome. This baby is not coming until October and I get to be wet the entire rest of time. And that was it, I completely lost it. I started bawling, sobbing loudly, in the car, driving down I35 all the way home. I scared Micha when I finally pulled in the drive, still sobbing. Was I really that upset about peeing myself? No, I've been peeing myself for weeks now the only difference is I can't really feel it anymore. Was I upset that I wasn't going into labor and thought I soon would be? No, I'm actually torn between being excited to be so close to holding Charlie and being sad that I won't be pregnant anymore. I was just tired of thinking about it. I was tired of hearing all day long things like "Clocks ticking" and "Wouldn't that be better than paying an extra $1000?" (when referring to the affects of Castor Oil and/or Pitocin). For starters, I am not going to issue an ultimatum to my baby, "Either come out on your own before midnight Sept 30th or I will make you come out!" I'm not evicting Charlie from my uterus. Secondly, unless you've actually had Pitocin, then shut the hell up! It's not like getting an IV of antibiotics. It's miserably painful- more so than natural, unmedicated labor. And yes, I could have an epidural, and like last time the headache that accompanied it for the week following delivery. An unrelenting headache and a newborn baby, between the two of which, a new Mom will never sleep. Sounds like a real party. Induction isn't even on the table anyway. My doctor won't do it and I think it's great that he feels strongly enough about letting babies arrive in their own time, not to allow patients who might be tired or uncomfortable to just decide they don't want to be pregnant anymore and force the baby out.

My doctor did offer up a couple suggestions but most of the options are about as appealing as the ass end of a skunk. There's the old wives tale about sex, which actually has some scientific basis and is the only attractive option. Micha really likes this suggestion, although maybe not in conjunction with some of the other methods. The most effective, in the doc's opinion, is Castor Oil. Castor Oil is not only not very palatable, it also works by causing diarrhea. Lovely. The other is what is called 'sweeping the membranes'. Now, let me preface the explanation of what this is with a little statement about my doc. When he does my exams, he is extremely 'kind'. I'm 31 years old and this is my second pregnancy so I can guesstimate that I've had approximately 20 or so vaginal exams in my lifetime and he, by far, is the best. Very quick and virtually no discomfort. This is important, particularly during pregnancy, because when you already have something essentially the weight of a bowling ball sitting on top of your cervix, the last thing you want is some guy with gorilla hands feeling around up there. 'Sweeping the membranes' is when the practitioner goes in with his fingers and pulls the membrane away from the uterus around the opening of the cervix. In order to accomplish this, he would have to push his fingers through the cervix. Sound painful? By all accounts, it is. Plus, there's not much evidence that sweeping the membranes works and there's the small risk of accidentally rupturing the membrane, at which point the clock really does start ticking due to the increased risk of infection.  Fenugreek and Evening Primrose Oil have also been used to get labor started but little is known about their efficacy and Fenugreek can cause diarrhea and Primrose Oil is thought to lengthen labor time.

So I can have a painful, invasive vaginal procedure while having the shits with a suppository stuck up my woo hoo ditty, and that might start my labor but it will be longer than if I had just waited. (Notice I didn't mention having sex because, let's face it, with all that going on there's no way sex is happening.) The best part is, the baby may still not be ready before midnight on September 30th, making my last few weeks of pregnancy miserable for no good reason. Where do I sign up?! I wish the money wasn't a consideration for us, but that just isn't our lot. There are somethings that are just not worth the worry though and somethings that are totally worth the wait.

Week 31- Are you gonna cry about it?

Thus far, I have not had any of the roller coaster-esque mood swings that women often seem to be afflicted with during not only pregnancy but ovulation, pre-menses or just whenever we need a good excuse to be bitchy. Imagine my surprise when I cried no less than 15 times Friday. Okay, that might be a bit of exaggeration and a couple of times it was merely a welling of the eyes. Still, it isn't like me to get sappy over a wall decal but there I was cruising the Target website, looking for stuff to decorate Charlie's room. Normally, I'm not a fan of wall decals, particularly words, but this one was the God Bless the Moon poem that my Grandma used to say to me at night. "I see the moon; the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me." It's simple and cute and seeing it there over a staged crib in a random photo studio made my eyes well up. I put it on my registry immediately, forgetting completely the fact that the walls in Charlie's room are going to be light blue, (very light blue as Micha is painting them as I type) and the decal itself is white. Oh well.

We have finally started on Charlie's room after finishing up some other home improvement projects we'd started earlier in the summer. We went to an antique mall in Ottawa and found a couple of old 45's I'm going to frame and hang on the wall and Micha found a toy Swiss plane that we'll hang from the ceiling. I love this part. If I was better at art, I'd go to design school. Decorating the new house has been so much fun and it's kept me sane on the uber slow days at work.

Saturday night we went to the county fair. Mumbles hung with her friends and rode the rides while Micha and I walked around looked at the animals and the 4-H projects and ate funnel cake. I'm not exactly a 'health nut' but I eat pretty good. Lots of veggies, lean meats and not to many refined carbs. I am human though and funnel cake is one of those once a year treats that no one should leave this life, without first having tried. Two hours after eating said fried, doughy, sugary treat, I was awake with heartburn, thus ruining my funnel cake experience for the year.

I've started noticing Charlie's responses to certain things, like riding in the car, or the sound of his Dad's or Sister's voices. During our trip to Ottawa, I could feel a sort of rythmic waving motion across my belly which I've notice a few times since then (althought never while the DJ is talking or during a commercial, so maybe it's the music?). If he hears his Dad or his Sister talking to him, he wakes up and kicks around and if I laugh (which I do a lot at my house) he responds a few seconds later with a little rumble.

Week 27- In the Weeds

I don't know if 'in the weeds' is a phrase used elsewhere but as a former waitress, it means being overwhelmed. Too many tables, too close together and not enough time to stop and figure out what the hell is going on. Just run your ass off and hope for the best. If pregnancy had weeds, I'd be in them or at least that's how I feel.

In addition to feeling like I need to do a ton in order to be ready for the baby, who's ETA is in about 2 1/2 months, I'm not sure how to prepare for the actual arrival. I really, really want a natural labor and delivery this time but I'm totally afraid it's going to hurt like hell. I've never even had so much as a broken bone or even a minor surgery. Ok, it's going to hurt and I just have to come to terms with that so how do I get through it? There's a virtual ton of information about how to ease labor. Drinking rasberry leaf tea, chiropractic care, classes, Kegels, exercises designed to help 'open' the pelvic floor, meditation, hypnosis and on and on and on. Which books should I read? Does any of this stuff really work?!? There's probably a marketing genius in Malibu driving a Maserati GranTurismo S paid for by millions of terrified women like me spending a small fortune on these methods.

On a completely different note, I waddle. Not because I'm very big mind you, but because my hip joints are so stiff it hurts to walk. Oh and to the cranky refridgerator repair man who came to my house complaining about how hot and tired he was, STFU! Like I don't know how hot it is, I'm the one with out ice, dude! I guess I could use the butternut squash that froze in my crisper to cool my drink. Jerk!

Week 26- About as warm and fuzzy as a fish

I'm feeling rather uninspired lately. This has been the first week, since those really early weeks, that I've really felt 'hormonal'. No, I haven't been crying inexplicably or flying into frenzied fits, I'm just 'blue'. It might be because this is my first full week back after the babymoon and I hate my job. Whatever the reason I'm hoping the upcoming holiday and the prospect of QT with some girlfriends will help improve my disposition. The bright spot for the week was seeing 'belly rolls' for the first time. Charlie moves All. The. Time., especially in the evenings now (which makes it difficult to sleep, another contributing factor to my mood). The other night, Micha and I were laying in bed reading (how lame and 'married couple' do we sound?!) and my book 'jumped'. I pulled my shirt up to watch the action and pretty soon so was Micha. He was feeling the baby and saying to my stomach "Hey Baby, do something cool" and there it was, a foot or a hand pushing up just beside where Micha's hand was.

Aside from uninspired and cranky, I've been feeling under the gun. Being 26 weeks along means that in 11 to 14 weeks Charlie will be here. Holy shit! Even though I know it is irrational, I feel like there's a ton to do and we're running out of time. There isn't even paint on the walls in the baby's room (well there is, but not the paint I want.) We don't have enough money in the bank, we don't have all the 'stuff', we haven't talked about the birth plan or taken any classes or made any arrangements for Mumbles. I know that my usual obsessiveness coupled with the normal feelings we have as expectant mothers is the reason for my sudden sense of urgency, but I still feel rushed. I'm anxious for Charlie to get here but I'm even more anxious to be ready for Charlie to get here.

One thing I have done that was on my list of 'to-do's' was watch the Business of Being Born. It's a documentary style film done by Ricki Lake and her friend about child birth in America. It certainly explained, for me at least, why a growing number of women are choosing Midwives or Unassisted Home Births instead of the traditional OBGYN/Hospital route. I found that every time they showed a woman giving birth, I teared up a little. I think because my own first birth experience was not the experience I wanted to have or even knew I could have. Just goes to show; you don't know what you don't know. I don't know if I would ever choose to have a Midwife over an OBGYN but I do know that if we aren't proactive about pregnancy/labor/delivery it becomes something that happens to us instead of something we are apart of.

Cool stuff from the womb: Charlie is about 2 lbs and about 9 in. long. He's probably starting to look less 'lanky' and fill out a bit. Also, this week, his eyes will start to open.

Week 24- Tan-stache

I am blessed with a head full of hair and a face which is not. I have very little need for painful hair removal techniques. An occasional plucking to keep my eyebrows neat is all I need. So why then, does it appear that I need to have my mustache waxed? Take a closer look and you'll see that it is actually pigmented skin, not hair, that has darkened my once lovely upper lip. I also have weird tinges on my cheeks. What. The. Fuck? I'm really not this self conscious. I have no problem traipsing around the beach in my two piece for all the Floridian fitness freaks, with their toned and tanned, bodies to see. My body is weirdly shaped; a tiny upper body, an ever growing round belly, and an extra cottage cheesy ass and thighs. I know it's there and yeah it bugs me, but not enough to obsess over it and try to figure out some clever and inventive way to cover it up when really everybody knows what's going on under there. Overall, I kind of love my prego body. I think my big round belly is cute and as for my cottage cheese ass, I just don't turn around to look in the mirror. Besides, as Micha told me, he likes cottage cheese. But a tan-stache! Really?! Sure, it's fine when I wear make-up but what about when I want to forgo that ritual like when I'm running late for work or I'm going to the pool. Or when I sweat? This is summer in Kansas! What then, hmm? This isn't fair! I wasn't out in the sun for hours with sans sunscreen. I wear it everyday! And hats! I bought big hats and big sunglasses to keep the sun off my face and still I wound up with this ridiculous....TAN-STACHE! Micha says not to worry about it, 'it's cute'. No buddy, this is the exact opposite of cute. There is not a culture on the face of the Earth that thinks a mustache on a woman is cute! Sigh...
Anyway, the realization that a very tiny, additional person will be occupying my house in just a little over 3 short months has me motivated to get down to the nitty-gritty preparation. The room, the videos, the classes, the shower and preparing Micha and Taylor for what is sure to be a wild ride. Maybe I'll start making a list and a time line because, yes, I am that anal.

Week 21- It's a Boy!

The baby is basically the size of a Barbie so the clarity is pretty amazing!

"Our baby is pretty metal" according to Micha. (It's a Metalocalypse reference for those of you who don't know.)

Charlie was awake and very active. At one point, we got to see him reach up and rub his eye. He was also practicing sucking and had the hiccups. He was a little shy about showing his face but.....

totally comfortable showing us his 'junk'!

Micha had us all write down on a peice of paper what we thought the baby would be, before the appointment. We arrived at the Doctor's office to find a bit of commotion. Apparently, a transformer blew and the building was running on emergency power. Nuts! No sonogram for me! The doctor went ahead and saw us just as they were trying to evacuate the building and the nurses pulled some strings and got us in for a sono at another facility. Woo hoo! So we got to see Charlie after all and were all amazed! We decided that, to let everyone know (all three of us were getting text messages all day!), we'd send a picture message anouncing the news. My family still eats together at my Grandmother's house every Wednesday, so they all started getting the messages and found out together!

Bump's first name will be Charles (we'll call him Charlie) after Micha's grandfather who passed away last year. We're still thinking about middle names. I'm looking forward to decorating Charlie's room. I like the idea of vintage toys. I think Micha does too because it will give him a chance to dig out some of his old childhood favorites! ;)

My name is Sparkie and I am a veggiholic or Week 17

I literally ate a pound of vegetables for lunch yesterday. Not as impressive if your talking about a cucumber or squash but I'm talking about a salad. No shit. There's a market down the street from where I work and they have a big salad bar. You buy it by the pound. I usually get a salad, some cottage cheese and some fruit and it usually weighs under a pound. Yesterday, I went straight vegetable. It was like a mountain of veggies. I couldn't get the lid on. It came out to be like 1.3 lbs and as soon as I got to the park where I like to eat I was like a kid at fat camp that had just received a pan of brownies in the mail. The guy in the car next to me had a horrified look on his face as he watched me shovel mouthfuls of broccoli and lettuce and carrots in my mouth.


I have developed a weird, deep affection for vegetables. When I'm in the produce section at the store I see vegetable that I don't even know what they are and think "That looks delicious. I wonder if I can just eat it, like an apple."

Fortunately my binge veg out clarified that the brumblings I've been feeling are actually the baby moving and not gas (it's kind of hard to tell). Either Mr. E loves veggies or he hates them. I guess we'll find out soon enough.

I had another Dr visit. I'm up to 134 lbs which means I've gained about 8 lbs altogether. Only 5 oz of that is actual 'baby weight'. Next month I'm scheduled for my sonogram. This is the big one in which we (hopefully) will find out if we are having a boy or a girl or, as my friend M pointed out, a sea horse.

This year my birthday is on Mother's Day. I got one of my presents from Micha early, Pearl Jam tickets! Mr. E got to attend his first concert and even picked up a souvenir!

Micha is the king of yard sale baby gear finds. He got a jogger stroller and infant seat with 2 bases for $30! Way to go, Baby Daddy!

Week 15

I am not a gushy, romantic person. I have a lot of gushy romantic ideas, I just don't spew them all over people like a freshman frat pledge at his first party of the year. That being said, I am totally in love with my Spousal Equivalent! He really is my best friend and my soulmate. He's smart and funny, he cooks and puts up with my cats and he knows how to fix stuff. Plus, he is so freakin' adorable! He rubs Tummy Butter on my belly every night and he lets me be all weird and emotional and ridiculous. He asks questions about the baby and last night he was flipping through one of my nursing books, even though I told him there weren't any pictures of boobies! I could not have asked for a more supportive partner. Micha even got out of bed, half asleep, at 11:30 at night to make me a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich with potato chips on it and thought it was funny! Plus, as my Grandma says, he is a hottie!

14 Weeks

The baby is the size of a navel orange this week, according to the book I'm reading (also an iPhone app. I <3 my phone!) and apparently has aversion to Italian food. Perhaps it was the one episode of Jersey Shore I watched when I had a weak moment and let my curiousity get the better of me. The baby does however love dairy products, particularly cheese. This week has been far less exciting than last week, thank God. I'm trying to get my Spring cleaning done. It's so funny because absolutely everyone attributes it to 'nesting'. Um, no. This has nothing to do with pregnancy or 'nesting'. This is simply because I'm neurotic. Micha can vouch for that. I Spring clean every year. As soon as the weather is nice enough, I like to throw the windows open (after a good wash) and clean top to bottom. Let everything air out and go though everything, get rid of the junk I don't need. Admittedly this year, I have a little extra motivation. The people who lived in the house before us were disgusting. The tub drains were clogged with pet hair, a twig and dental floss. The carpet was filthy. Even the walls have all kinds of 'stuff' on them. Obviously, I don't want to be bringing a newborn home to a funky house nor do I want to be 8 mo. pregnant and trying to scrub-a-dub in the hottest part of the summer. So, there you have it. It's not hormonal, it's logical. And when I'm done, I'm planning to treat myself to a much needed pedicure.

I'm totally amazed that at only 14 weeks and just the size of an orange, the baby already has all its parts and pieces. Imagine that, all your parts squeezed down to the size of an orange. Think how tiny something like a finger nail would have to be for everything to fit! It also amazes me that all the parts are starting to work and the baby is making faces and waving and peeing (which was a difficult concept for Micha 'So the baby's just hanging out in there peeing on himself? lol) I can't wait until I can feel Mr. E moving!

I'm scared....

...of spiders and being on a ladder and of giving birth naturally. When I was pregnant with Mumbles, I was focused on how I was going to raise her, rather than the how of her actually getting here. I took a one day crash course in labor and delivery and when the big day came, I did what I was told and I didn't ask any questions. They broke my water, gave me pitocin, gave me an epi, a little more pitocin, two pushes and viola, I had a baby. I also had a headache for days after delivery. I didn't know until recently that the headache was most likely caused by the epi. I thought it was the Tylenol 3 they gave me, so I stopped taking it. I also had no idea that I could've easily been on the snowballs path to an 'unnecesarean', which I absolutely don't ever want, ever. When I told my Mom Mumbles' birth story, she said she hadn't had an epi with any of us. Really? Not even with my sister and I who were both breach? Nope, and I could tell by the look on her face and the way she said it that I had missed something. I don't regret it. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I needed the hospital staff to take charge and tell me what to do. I don't know that I would've made different choices had I known what I know now. Mumbles was 'sunnyside up' and I was having trouble relaxing between my contractions. Still, I wonder what might have been different about her birth story had I gone au naturale.
I have decided this time, knowing what I know now, that I want to try and have as natural a childbirth as I can. I'm still going to deliver in a hospital because I think that is where Micha and I will feel most comfortable. I am, however, terrified that its going to hurt like hell. Micha is scared too. I know lots of women who aren't much different than me have done it. I know they were all probably scared at some point too. Still I worry that if my labor is long, or if it hurts too much, I won't be able to push and things will go bad. I'm not unsually one who is so full of self-doubt, I mean I bet if I had to and I didn't think about for too long, I could jump out of a plane (not that I want to, I'm just saying), but this shit is scary!

More of Week 13

This has been such a roller coast ride of a week. Sunday with my family was absolutely perfect. Monday with Micha's family was great, but then Tuesday rolled around and the shit hath hiteth the fan-eth.

Monday, I told my boss that I was expecting. Tuesday he shares with me that he's concerned about the company and doesn't know how much longer we can hold out like this. What?!? Are you fucking serious? For months now, he's been saying that this is the nature of the business. At times we sit around on our hands and then, boom, business picks up and we are all so busy we don't know whether to scratch our watches or wind our asses. Could this guy have possibly picked a worse time to tell me, I am aboard a sinking ship?! Seriously.

Wednesday, despite concerns about how much longer I will be employed, was great. I felt good. I found pants that didn't look ridiculous or hideous. (Why are all maternity clothes covered in huge stupid floral patterns or black?) And then I went home. The kitchen was an absolute mess. Dirty dishes were filling the sink and spilling onto the counter, the dishwasher was full but hadn't been ran. And ants. Don't get me wrong, bugs are fine, some are even interesting- when they are outside. They do not belong in my kitchen crawling on my dishes. I literally went from zero to bitch in seconds. The bright spot was that Wednesday is yoga night. Yoga is how I maintain my sanity. Unfortunately, I was off, really off and I knew why.

When I say we told my family on Easter Sunday, that is only a half truth. My parents divorced when I was 5 so telling my family anything is a two-part ordeal. I knew that my Mom would be thrilled and excited, she loves being a Grandma. Dad is a different story alltogether. Dad and I don't have a typical 'Father/Daughter' relationship. Don't get me wrong, I love him. He's my Dad. We had some really great summers together when I was a kid. Then when I was 12 he just dropped of the face of the planet. He stopped calling or writing. We didn't visit him during the summer. Nothing. To this day, I have no idea why. Seven years went by without any contact between us. But at 18, he came through for me when I really needed someone to. I moved in with him and stayed until after Mumbles was born and I got my own apartment. I chose to forgive him and not to judge him. He'd been battling his demons for a number of years. I hadn't seen it when I was younger but as an adult it became glaringly obvious.
That was 10 years ago and my life is vastly different now. I have toppled mountains. I graduated from college, the first on my Mom's side to do so. I'm raising my daughter and I don't think I've screwed her up too bad. I work, I have a wonderful partner and we've purchased a home together. Through all of this, I don't remember my Dad being happy for me. I can only remember one time when he even had anything positive to say about everything I've been able to accomplish. I don't feel like he's disappointed with me, except for in my choice of living arrangements, but I also don't think he can just be happy for me. I am happy and feel that I have a wonderful life. Isn't that what parents are supposed to want for their children? Maybe I didn't emphasis how excited Micha and I are about having a baby? No, he just launched into a diatribe about good parenting and how he can't speak from a place of authority even though when he signed the liscense he meant it. Then he went on about his childhood buddy's dog. No 'Congratulations!'. Didn't ask when the baby was due. Nothing. Sadly, I knew the conversation would go this way. You can't expect a duck to bark like a dog. Yet, I was still in tears. Why the fuck do I even talk to him? Because if I don't I feel guilty. Because when he dies, I don't want to regret that I didn't. Because I know he is lonely and miserable and I feel sorry for him. I feel better being a bright spot in his day, even though he can be such a dark spot in mine. I'm tougher than him. I can survive him making me feel shitty for a few minutes once a month because I know I have so much more to look forward to. And because despite everything, I love him. I love him for the person I know he was meant to be, but just couldn't.
Micha held me while I had a good cry about it, I ate a bunch of candy and passed out. While I was asleep, Micha cleaned the house...the whole house. Floors, windows (jealous yet?) everything and even made bread. See? So much more to look forward to!

Holy Pampers, Batman!

February 2nd, 2010
Week 4


Today, I found out I was pregnant. This is number two for me and the first for my 'Spousal Equivalent.' Woo hoo! I'm so thrilled! What is Micha going to say?! He's working out of town so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to tell him. Tonight I'm going to bed with a big, fat grin on my face.


February 3rd, 2010


Micha is thrilled! When I told him, he was cycling between excited and freaked out and back to really excited. He'd giggle and say something like "You're going to big and pregnant" and then in the next breath he'd say stuff like "I gotta sell all my shit." He did tell me that at some point he's probably going to completely loose it; which is fine because I will too. Hopefully, it won't be the same day.

Week 6
Oh breastfeeding!?!? Where do I even start? I know bf'ing is the best thing for baby and obviously I want to do the best thing. Really, how many people go into parenthood thinking "I'm going to raise my child and just always do the second or third best thing for them"? I tried to bf Tay, then at about 10 days she started screaming. Not crying, screaming. Screamy's ped said she was colic and I should cut anything out of my diet that might make her gassy. I was already nearly starving (I lost all my baby weight plus a lot). Screamy kept on screaming. So it went for two months, Screamy and I crying in my little two bedroom apartment. The neighbor called DFS. DFS came and, wearing Screamy, I explained that despite my best efforts, Screamy still screamed. I don't know how much of it he heard but I think he got a headache and left. Then one day I thought I had mastitis. I stopped bf'ing and switched to formula. Miraculously, Screamy stopped screaming and became the most pleasant, easy going baby I ever saw. I always attributed the colic to breastfeeding and swore that despite pressure from ANYBODY, I would never, NEVER put any future babies I might have through that again. Despite my vow, breast milk seems to still prevail over formula with regards to being the healthies for baby, so I resolved to educate myself. There isn't anything that supports my theory that bf'ing is linked to colic. Colic, I've decided, is Dr. speak for "I don't know what's wrong with your baby." So what went wrong? I have a new theory. 1) I had no support. My closest relative was my Dad who turns 20 shades of red at the mere mention of a boob. All the nurses were encouraging me to breastfeed but no one told me that it may not come easily but there are things that can be done to work it out. I had no idea that organizations like LLL even existed. 2) I had to return to work right away therefore; I started pumping. Not only that, but at work there was an old woman who kept bitching about how often and how long I was in the bathroom pumping, so I was always trying to hurry. 3) I wasn't even getting enough calories and protein to maintain a healthy weight. I think, looking back, I wasn't the only one who was starving. I think that despite the fact that Tay was getting enough to still grow, she wasn't really satisfied. I think, she was crying because she was still hungry. All the really high calorie milk comes at the end or nursing and I was rushing pumping so she might not have been getting what she really needed. So, I find myself resolved again to try, try my very hardest to bf this baby for as long as I can.

Week 7
I hate everything, except chicken flavored Ramen, Sprite and for some strange reason grapes. Even my Grandmother's lasagna was a battle to finish. No actual puking, just queasiness. I am however, so bloated my pants don't fit and gassier than the Goodyear. Going poop is like trying to fit a square peg through a round hole. Not surprisingly, I have absolutely no libido. I would consider these all pretty minor discomforts; although if you ask Micha, he may not agree. I feel terrible about it because I know he takes it personally when we aren't intimate. He's being ultra-patient with me. I'm starting to have little bouts of melancholy and the dog is pissing me off more than usual. And I'm soooo tired. I can't get out of bed in the morning, I sleep in my car at lunch and the first thing I do when I get home is crawl into bed. I've always been a 'sleeper' but this is bone deep exhaustion.

Week 9

No more appetite problems! In fact, I want to eat All. The. Time. Everything looks good, except fish. We had our first Dr visit. Micha was totally psyched about that. What guy wouldn't want o see a virtual stranger playing with his girlfriends boobs and poking around under the hood?! We got to see the baby, who was waving at us with tiny little hands. Of course, I was elated but it did make me realize just how much I missed out on with Tay; not knowing I was pregnant until half way through. Micha was excited and relieved. Everything was "perfect" (Dr. McFarland's favorite word). I've also had my first dream about having sex with Micha again which gives me hope that my libido hasn't completely died. I was starting to wonder if we should maybe have a memorial for it. I also had my first dream about the baby. I was holding this tiny little person, looking just like newborns look and then all of the sudden I was holding a baby that was more like 1 or 2 months old. I think it's my 'Mommy Spirit' reminding me that those first few weeks go by sooo quickly. I need to take in everything, smells, sounds, feelings and remember them.

Week 10
My usual morning congestion has now been compounded by... du dun dun...seasonal allergies. Aaaahhh! The whole right side of my face is running. Last night, my contact jumped ship because it was drowning in my eyeball. My nose is bright red and raw. Normally, this is the one time of year when I'm perfectly ok with loading up on some over-the-counter remedies however; I am not ok with it now, particularly in the first trimester of my pregnancy. Also, my OB's office called yesterday. My labs came back and I have a bladder infection. Gee, there something new and different (sarcasm). They want me to take an antibiotic called Macrobid.
Flashback time!

In April of 1998, I had just moved in with my Dad and was trying to figure out the direction of my life as a post-High School grad. I started having some discomfort in my lower back which I attributed to my job as a housekeeper. One night the pain was too much, I couldn't sleep and started crying. My Dad woke up and took me to the emergency room. I had a kidney infection but that wasn't all. I was pregnant. Impossible! There is a prerequisite for that sort of thing and I had not participated in such an act in over 4 months. Ah well I was 4 1/2 months pregnant so it was very possible, indeed. How, you ask, could I not have known I was pregnant for 4 1/2 months? Easy as 1, 2, 3. 1) I was on the pill. 2) I never had regular periods. I had, in fact, had what I thought was a period in January, weeks after the calculated conception date. 3) I attributed my morning sickness to stress. The nurse actually did snap something at me about weight gain. Weight gain?! Really? I've gained like 2 whole pounds and I don't know if you've noticed but I kinda needed those 2 pounds! (I was a little on the bean pole side.) Anyway, the Doc treated my kidney infection and I was put on an antibiotic for the rest of my pregnancy. Which antibiotic was it? You guessed it, Macrobid, thought to be perfectly safe for a woman to take during pregnancy.


Flash foward 11 years. I'm flipping through our newspaper a few months ago and low and behold I come across an article that catches my eye. Macrobid may not be safe for women to take during pregnancy. It was one of those times when I felt horrified and vilified all at the same time. For a few years now, I've been reluctant to take prescription or over-the-counter meds. I have a few reasons (if you haven't figured out by now, I really like making lists) a) I think most of our health problems can first be addressed by changing our lifestyles and diets. b) I'm not sure we know all of the side-affects for newer meds. c) I think we over medicate and as a result our immune systems don't get to work like they are supposed to. Needless to say, I told my OB's office that I preferred not to take anything and to try and get it cleared up by drinking more water and even suffering through a glass or two of cranberry juice. I looked further into Macrobid and found that they are now saying that it is only NOT safe for a woman to take in the last 2 to 4 weeks of pregnancy, so if I can't get the infection to clear up naturally, I'll revisit the option of taking the antibiotic. As for my allergies, I'll just have to suck it up for a couple weeks. I am going to look into getting some local honey. Micha told me one day that eating local honey will help prevent seasonal allergy symptoms.

Week 11

I've spent the last two days in bed with some kind of bizarre flu. I had a fever and my whole body hurt but I didn't have any stomach trouble. I did however; only want to eat grilled cheese sandwiches. I think if I could get healthy, I'd feel pretty good. It seems like the extreme fatigue is starting to subside as well as all the whacked out gastronomical issues. People just don't appreciate regular bowel movements enough. Seriously! My pants actually fit better at 11 weeks than they did at 7 weeks. Weird!

Week 12

Hello Sparkie! Finally feeling like myself again. My allergies are starting to subside and I have energy thanks to some much needed sunshine! And how much do I love grilled cheese sandwiches?! My 'bump' is starting to show so it's a good thing we are planning on telling the family this weekend. Micha and I are trying to come up with ways of sharing our news.

Week 13

So we told Mumbles last night because we are stupid. The poor thing thought it was an April Fools joke! As we talked more about it she understood that we weren't pulling her leg. My first thought was "This is not going well" when she said she'd probably have more chores. As dinner went on though she seemed to get more excited about being a big sister and on the drive home she patted my belly and was saying 'Hi baby', who she now calls 'Mr. E'. This weekend is the big weekend and we decided for Micha's family we are going to color Easter eggs that will anounce the baby and for my family we are going to hand out birthday party invitations. Mumbles is super excited about helping us tell everyone and she is dying to tell her own friends.

The word is getting out! We told my family this weekend. Any time most of my family can get together, I'm usually overwhelmed by how much I love those crazy people! Mumbles handed out our "Party Invitations" after we'd all eaten and the reaction was priceless. Everyone kind of looked puzzled until my Mom said 'Are you serious?!' We nodded yes and she let out a squeal! She hugged Micha and hugged me. She was crying and laughing all at once and I could hear my sister in the other room, crying. She hugged me and asked me if I was feeling ok and hugged me some more. My Mom is typically a fairly reserve woman, even stoic at times, so her jubilation was a thrill for all of us. Sometimes we wonder why the people in our lives put up with so much shit from us. I know I've given my Mom more than a few gray hairs but I'm so happy to also be able to bring her so much joy. I love my close-knit, crazy family because we get to rejoice in each others joy. Micha's Mom, Jennifer's reaction was what I thought it would be. "I knew it!" She'd seen a psychic in Las Vegas who told her to expect a baby in the family. Crazy! 2009 was a rough year for her so hopefully, this is a sign that 2010 will be really a great year. Micha's Dad was funny too. I was carrying a basket of laundry down the stairs, he offered to carry it for me and I heard him tell Micha "Don't let her carry that laundry up and down the stairs!" Micha was a premie and Jennifer was worried about his brother early on, so I think that might be where the over-protectiveness comes from, but it's awfully sweet.