Monday, February 28, 2011

Birthing Day

My labour started this morning. Please pray for us today! I can't wait to meet this baby!!

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Prelabour cranky pants?

I am grouchy. Snippy at my kids, angry at the world, impatient with my baby, and let me tell you: I will NEVER, EVER, EVER walk the Gauntlet of Rude Comments at my kids' school again. EVER. I mean it, because now my mom is here to stay and if I'm still pregnant next week, she will drop them off for me.

Every morning and every afternoon I DREAD the walk from the car to the kids' classrooms, because there are hordes of acquaintance moms who want to talk about the fact that I'M STILL FRICKPREGNANT, and ask me my due date AGAIN (I'm always vague and usually lie, this is probably part of the problem. If I just gave them an actual NUMERICAL DATE they would still comment but not ask about when I'm due again), and make pseudo sympathetic comments. But the thing is, I'm not actually impatient for this baby to arrive til its ready, unless eight to ten people in two minutes point out how pregnant I am! Even then it's PEOPLE who are impatient and not me.

Except for today. Last night I had more prelabour and I was pretty sure it was the real deal (for some reason both Ayden and Riley were born on Thursdays so I had something about Thursday floating around in my head), and I think I woke up today really grouchy about it NOT being the real deal even though I was severely relieved to have dodged the bullet of ALL THAT PAIN for another day: oh sure, natural birth is so great and all but lets be serious, NO IT'S NOT! Well, not from this end of the tunnel, anyways. Not so close. So hilarious. I'll be fine when I'm in it but at this point I'm all chicken shit and "I NEED AN EXIT STRATEGY!"
This post has a lot of caps locked letters. Sorry about that. Emotions get a bit extreme when one is this close to giving birth. I feel almost dizzy from the mood swings. And hot flashes. And sore boobs. And FEAR: this is my big one right now: my baby is too big. It won't come out. It can't come out. I just might be pregnant forever.

Anyways, I just went over to Rixa at Stand and Deliver and she's as cranky as I am! And as pregnant. Several people commented that it's probably the just-prior-to-labour mood swings. I hope so. Because if this baby gets any bigger I'm going to give birth to a six year old. And it really REALLY won't come out. Frickin nine pound four ounce 38 weeker: if you gained the normal 8 oz per week you're now 9 lbs 14 ounces and WTF? My vagina is as wide as a pencil. How are you supposed to fit? Couldn't you have thought of that when you were FRICKGROWING LIKE A 700 lb 4-H PUMPKIN?!

CRAP!

See, I told y'all I'm cranky pants. Gr.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Covering up is a Feminist Issue


a Canadian blogger I just might be in some serious love with....

Sleep deprivation, suppose it's preparing me for life with a newborn...

I'm tired. I'm doing well, but I am having trouble sleeping. I woke up before 5 a.m. this morning and finally gave up on sleep at 6. I fell asleep after midnight (I was in bed by 11:15), woke up at 12:45, again at 2:15, again at 3:00, again at 4:00, and then again a little before 5. It helps that we have frequent night visitors named Riley and Ayden. And that Brent's alarm goes off at 4.

I am not sure if you remember that in my previous pregnancies I had this recurring nightmare that was very vivid and a half asleep, half awake nightmare I had trouble waking myself from? Often Brent had to wake me up, and once when he wasn't here I fell out of bed before I woke up from it. The nightmare has a large spider (or sometimes several) descending from my bedroom ceiling towards or onto my face. Sometimes the spider is larger than my face, sometimes it is average sized. Brent usually wakes up to me thrashing around trying to get out from under this spider, and he wakes me up.
My first pregnancy I just thought it was a weird pregnancy side effect.
My second pregnancy I put 2 and 2 together and realized that when I didn't eat a bedtime snack, the nightmare visited, so I attributed it to hypoglycemia, which can sometimes cause weird, vivid, or nightmarish dreams (my endocrinologist disagreed but then my diabetic nurse mentioned it so I think my endo was just plain wrong). It's a rare side effect but it can happen.
This third pregnancy I've had better control of things in general, and attribute the absolute absence of this stupid nightmare to my cinnamon supplements and general trend towards hyperglycemia as opposed to hypo.

Last night I had it again.
12:45, an hour and a half after my protein rich bedtime snack (so it was likely still being digested, NOT causing low blood sugar), I woke up to two spiders one big and the other small, descending from the ceiling to my face. Then I woke up again. (this is how the dream usually goes). But this time I guess I was close enough to falling asleep that I knew it was a dream before Brent woke up and before I was totally awake, so although I screamed and thrashed around and my heart pounded like I was dying (aside: yes, I know its ridiculous to have this reaction to spiders but if one is crawling on my foot I do feel like I'm about to die, I'm in that much danger), I yelled out "It's not real! It's not real!" and woke myself up. And Brent.

That was weird. 39 weeks into my third pregnancy, the dream returns.

It's not anxiety. I'm not anxious now that we're so close to the end, and there's no placenta previa, and I've been reading Ina May and feeling well supported by all of you and my family and my midwife. And I don't have this dream when I'm anxious. THOSE dreams are more like watching Ayden burn up in a fire while I'm strapped to the roof of a camper (true story: well, not the story, just that I did have this dream), or horrific car crashes with rollovers and my babies flying out the windows in all directions, or watching one of my kids drown: work related stuff. I've seen variations of all those situations and more, and they come back to haunt me when my anxiety is highest. Uncontrolled high anxiety, that is.

So what the heck is it?

Here's praying for a chance to nap today!!! Holy crikey.

One other thing: remember that I've had contractions and contractions and contractions for months? Now I'm wondering if they were low calcium. A few weeks ago I started having these horrific leg cramps, and all along I've had painful contractions especially when I lift heavy things, right? Well I KNOW calcium deficiency can cause these things, and calcium imbalances are more common in diabetic moms. I was taking calcium supplements but they were pretty crappy ones. Because of all my nausea I wasn't all that into swallowing more pills: but I haven't been nauseous for several months so I should have switched earlier. Once I got those leg cramps I went out and bought good quality calcium supplements in pill form and started taking good doses of those (Health First brand Calcium Magnesium Citrate, with vitamin D added: 18oo mg per day of calcium, 6oo mgs with each meal). Finally, the leg cramps went away, and the contractions too. Holy toledo. I should've done this months ago. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, my life is pretty busy.
=)
It got lost in the fray.

Plus, I'm not so sure all that lifting was a great idea anyways. Lift, contractions. Don't lift, no contractions. Even with adequate calcium levels it was a good idea to stay away from work (feeling slightly guilty, obviously!), and how could I know at this point? I can't go back and take proper supplements and see if it works. I should've been taking these while breastfeeding anyways, I probably was deficient from before I even got pregnant. So much to learn, in life. I'm just glad I figured it out before going into labour, that would have sucked because calcium is necessary for efficient muscle contractions and minimizing lactic acid buildup. Less calcium=more pain in labour. More pain in all muscles, but more pain in labour too!

I just found out on Tuesday that there is a midwifery school being incorporated into the naturopathic school in our area: its open only to naturopathic students (bummer) but created by my midwife!! It starts in September. Hmmm, maybe I want to be a naturopath AND a midwife? It might take less time than waiting around for UBC to smarten up and accept me! Lol....
Plus, I love the marriage of naturopath and midwife~I've had that combination in two of my three midwives, and it has been an invaluable resource. Of course, Brent teases me that I singlehandedly support the naturopathic pharmacy at my midwife's office because every time I go I come home with some remedy or other. But they work! Jeepers.

Well, I should go get the boys ready for school now.

Baby should be 9 lbs, 12 oz now if my perinatologist was correct in his ultrasound measurements. I can birth that, right? Right? Feeling my pelvic bones squeak every time I think about it....
okay, maybe I'm a bit anxious about it sometimes! Tell me I can do this!

Monday, February 21, 2011

No Baby Yet

Just so you aren't left wondering, no baby yet, and no signs. So far, I'm okay! Not impatient. It's giving me time to get my entire list done; Birth plan, baby clothes, packing, organizing bedroom, pumping milk to bring to the hospital, etc, etc.
Last night I went to a baby shower for a friend from book club. That was fun! I hope I have a girl, though. The boy clothing thing is getting v.e.r.y. boring. I mean, that's not the only reason....

=)

xo

Friday, February 18, 2011

More On The Blessing of a Skinned Knee

Donald Winnicott, the British pediatrician and psychoanalyst, often wrote about "good enough mothering" and the "ordinary devoted mother." He says that "inherited potential will be realized" when "the environmental provision is adequate." Adequate, not exceptional. You can do your part. You can't control the outcome. In our competitive world, it's often easy to forget this and to blame ourselves, our child's teacher, or other outside influences if our child is not achieving at an extraordinary level or doesn't seem terrifically happy.

Dr Winnicott is reminding us that in order to flourish, children don't need the best of everything. Instead they simply need what is good enough....Consider that "good enough" can often be best for your child, because when life is mostly ordinary and just occasionally extraordinary, your child won't end up with expectations of herself and those around her that can't be met on this worldly plane.


Well thank goodness. Because there's a fair amount of "good enough" going on around here while waiting for #4 to arrive. Cereal from the box. Ben Ten in excess. Looooong time outs while I figure out WTF am I gonna say to a kid who is discovered running around on the roof of our shed? Praying for God to intervene during fights so I don't have to get up and go intervene...

The chapter I just read wasn't as fantastically mind blowing as previous ones. She's pretty adamant about 'privacy,' including keeping kids out of your bedroom unless they knock and ask politely, and NEVER at night. Well, c'mon now. Cosleepers can have boundaries, too! This is a common criticism that I just don't get. We need boundaries, but don't those boundaries need to fit the family we're talking about? No bed sharing might be a sanity keeping boundary for one set of parents, and unacceptable nighttime abandonment for others. Or simply flat out survival tactic. Because sleep trumps all, right Caryn? I like the idea of boundaries but I think she should be more flexible as to what those are. Different strokes, y'know.

Well, Duh

I figured out why I'm suddenly more comfortable. And likely why I had that horrible back pain day; the baby dropped! Duh, why didn't I think of that?? I don't remember how soon before birth they drop, but they settle in deeper at some point, getting ready to be born.

I watched Orgasmic Birth again last night; I ordered the DVD online last year or the year before and LOVED it. It's tough on the one hand because all these amazing birth stories are happening at home, in tubs and on porches and in livingrooms, and the few hospital births shown seem like caricatures of what birth can be in comparison. I have to remind myself that beautiful births happen in hospitals too. And the whole reason I watch these DVDs is to increase my confidence in my body's ability to do what it's designed to do, and I do get that out of watching them. It's hard to be a birth nutter and want a certain thing and not get it~especially as its preached by other nutters as the superior way to go. The nutters pay lip service to the "high risk women" being in hospitals but do they really believe it? And how about advocating for less interventive, more evidence based practice for those high risk women in hospital? I know myself from experience that as soon as one is labelled high risk, technology, machinery, and medicine are loaded upon a high risk pregnancy without pause. Suddenly, its cause for talking about dead babies, looking at them in utero repeatedly, inductions, cesareans, ad infinitum. I have an amazing team; midwife, OB, and perinatologist, not to mention my diabetic clinic nurse and dietician who believe in me, home birth, and natural birth. But they have some colleagues. Just brushing up against the colleagues once in awhile has been enough to make me shudder. Plus, knowing some other women who have grappled with the high risk label (friends and family) and knowing their stories is difficult too. Who's advocating for evidence based care for US? Only us, I guess. Of course it's that way with low risk natural birthers, too, there's just more of them!
Gestational diabetes should be labelled 'Medium Risk' anyways, since nobody's dying.

I saw the perinatologist again on Wednesday for an ultrasound. I love this perinatologist, as I've mentioned before! He's in his seventies, and very compassionate, calm, easy going. He's the one who said, "You're the boss!" when I told him I wanted fewer ultrasound scans. He measured the baby fairly quickly, in half the time the original doc did (the one I didn't like who talked induction at 39 weeks, and dead babies). He said the baby measured in the same percentile as before (95th), at 9 lbs 4 oz (give or take 1 lb 6 oz). I don't feel its that big, but I guess we'll see when its born. At first I felt fine. 9 lbs is not 11, and its not freaky big compared to my other babies.
The perinatologist said, "I think you have some genetics for big babies going on here, as well as some diabetes, because your baby follows the curve even though it is above it. Diabetic babies who are not well controlled often have spikes in their growth charts. Plus, you have good blood sugar control, and still your baby is big."
And later he said, "I don't want you to feel you've done anything wrong. You're doing a good job!" How did he know I was turning guilt over in my mouth, scanning my choices and evaluating them? I'm a quiet person. I didn't say anything. I didn't cry or even look sad. I think he's a bit intuitive that way. And how does a man in his seventies really *get* a pregnant woman in her thirties like that? Intuition. Lots of humanity. Lots of years of listening with an open mind.
He put on my report, "Large for gestational age. No further scans required unless medically indicated." He gets me! He gets birth! Awesome.
And he also told me I would have no problem getting this baby out, since my last baby was big and born vaginally. That's what a woman needs to hear in the final weeks of pregnancy: you can do it!

At the end of the ultrasound he took the probe and tucked it down low on my right side, just to show me the baby's face. He said, "That's a happy baby in there, breathing away! There is your baby's face!" So cool. I didn't even have to ask.

The scan was a hit to my emotional state, though. It took me a day or so to figure out why. It's because I worked so hard and controlled my diet so strictly and took high doses of insulin and followed 'the rules,' my emotions rode this roller coaster that followed the ups and downs of my blood sugar readings, I exercised so much it exhausted me and made my body HURT, and still my baby is nearly as big as my previous one.
It's not that I regret the treatment, I just feel like a failure for not having a smaller baby. Like somehow, somewhere, I did something wrong, or the treatment failed me and just didn't work, and I'm going to have this LGA or possibly macrosomic baby everyone will judge me for. And whose risk of type II diabetes will be higher, despite everything in my power to prevent that. The part I could have done differently was to go on insulin earlier, instead of fighting it for so long. Although the endocrinologist said this was possible; some women have big babies AND gestational diabetes, and average for gestational age just doesn't happen for them even with insulin. I do have lots of aunts who had big babies, on both sides of my family. Who knows, really?

Anyways. Baby dropped. Perinatologist awesome and sweet and kind. Midwife visit yesterday at 38 weeks 1 day;
Blood pressure 110/70
Fetal heart rate 140-144
Fundal height 39 cm
Baby's position LOP (optimal for giving birth) and engaged, head down

We discussed my birth plan and my post natal plan (for baby exams, blood sugar tests, etc). I'm bringing milk with me to the hospital, donated from a friend who is lactating. I'll add my colostrum to it when I get around to pumping some!! Jeepers, so many things to do, so little time...

My mom is here again. Blissful, help from mom....

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Pain and Mood

In learning lots during the past few years about mood disorders and their functions, I've read that two main things to check for/rule out when it comes to depression and anxiety are low iron; anemia can have a big effect on mood, and thyroid function; also a huge mood effector.
I heard at last year's breastfeeding education day that PAIN can also be a huge mood effector. If a post partum woman has pain from breastfeeding or healing from a traumatic or surgical birth and she is tested on the depression scale, she will OFTEN score as depressed, even if she is not. Chronic or frequent pain is HUGE when it comes to quality of life.
I experienced this myself today, a bit. I saw my OB this morning, and when I left his office I was very happy~he's amazing. How do these people actually come my way, and why don't I appreciate it more how willing they are to accept and work with my 'style?' Two major things about him made me happy today:
(1) He palpated my belly and said, "I just don't think this baby is that big! What do you think, compared to your other pregnancies?"
HELLO? Number one, you just affirmed what I think myself, and what my midwife has said to me several times. Plus you boosted my confidence. PLUS, you just asked me WHAT DO I THINK? As if my judgment and self assessment counts! Counts enough to add to your clinical judgment! Wowsers. This man is a gem.
(2) He asked me, "What should we do if you go overdue?" Number one, you just said "we," because we're in this together and I'm the one who chooses. Plus, you just asked me what should we do, instead of telling me.
I stated that if I go overdue, I think we should do some non stress tests and fetal surveillance, but that I would like to avoid induction unless it's very clearly indicated because of the increased chance of rupture for me as a VBAC.
He said, "I absolutely agree with you."
We are on the SAME PAGE.

So I was so happy. I really don't think I'll go over, I'm not actually worried about that much at all: I have an appointment for March 1st with this OB but I'm pretty certain I won't be at that appointment. Because I will have already given birth. But it's so good we talked about it and agree that induction is not the intervention of choice particularly for VBAC women.

I came home, picked up Riley from my mother in law, and then did my afternoon marathon stint: Brent was at work so I had the kids and all their responsibilities and cares and woes and needs for the rest of the day. I have to manage my diabetes, so I have to exercise. It's hard to fit that in but one of the best ways is to walk to the kids' school to pick them up at 2:30. So I walked. And then when I got home my back HURT like beFRICKINjeepers from the long walk and pushing the stroller, but I had task after task after task to do...by the time dinner came it was mile 38 of a marathon I didn't train for, and I was sitting on the kitchen floor crying while Matthew thumped on Riley and Ayden screamed at me for making him practice his violin and Riley bawled in my arms for having been thumped on, and there was meat in the oven and rice in the cooker but no vegetables prepared yet and my back, my back, my back....

The point is that I felt so drained and cranky and DOWN as a result of my pain that it totally wrecked my earlier positive mood. By the time every kid was in bed I was so DONE that I wanted to scream at every little inevitable "Mommy!" that comes out of the bedrooms each night, even though I normally don't mind. And normally I like to make dinner. And normally I'm quite good at intervening or averting thumping episodes.

I kicked the dog. Like, I ACTUALLY kicked the dog, because I was in such a horrible mood. All from pain! He's on his bed in the living room, watching me with one eye as if to say, "Poor me," and here I am over on the couch blogging as if to say, "Poor me!" I can watch this whole evening with an observational eye and note that it's interesting that pain can affect one's quality of life so profoundly, and now that I've gotten finished with the tasks and tasks and tasks, and everyone is sleeping, and there are no more "Mommy!" calls, and I've been all introverted on the computer? I feel much better. It helps that I'm sitting and no longer have to walk around or get up and down, or get anyone a frickin' knife or glass of water or napkin or more broccoli (both Ayden and Riley are crazy about broccoli, isn't that funny?)!!!!!! It only hurts when I walk around or stand, and only after a long walk or swim or whathaveyou. Gurk. Only a few more days, maybe a week or two, and it'll be over.

Actually, except for after I exercise, I'm more comfortable now than I was a month ago, generally speaking, and more peaceful for sure, and feeling much more confident about giving birth (thank you, most wonderful friends and family, for all the encouragement, and ROB: I just might post a video to make you watch me give birth and traumatize you for LIFE, hobo). Please don't think I'm feeling this way all the time, I'm not at all. I've been getting lots of help from my mom, my mother in law, Brent, and several friends, not to mention my kids themselves, and I'm feeling quite good most of the time. I just found it an interesting experience in the power of pain and wanted to share.

So if you know some post partum women with sore nipples, sore butts, and/or depressed mood, help them out! =) And spread the word: pain hurts.
lol.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentines Day

Soooo, I was shooting for delivering on valentines day, because who doesn't want a baby on the day of love? But things are looking pretty noneventful around here in that department today, so likely not.
=)
Last night I was thinking I might be in early early labour, I had lots of contractions, more painful and regular than my annoying ones I've been having off and on this ENTIRE PREGNANCY, and some nausea. But I wasn't convinced, you know? I didn't have the nesting burst of energy, I didn't have any signs/symptoms, and I just didn't feel like I was. We sure as shizzle aren't ready! I still have to launder baby clothes, pack for the hospital, write my birth plan, install the carseat....
But I texted some labour support people to give them a heads up, just in case. We went to Brents' parents' place for dinner and the contractions stopped during dinner. Then after a few hours, they started again. Then we went home, and they stopped after I went to bed. Since then, nothing. Just early practice stuff.

Yesterday I made cookies! We were actually quite productive yesterday. Brent and his dad and uncle installed an exterior door between our house and garage~the original owners (or somebody along the way) put an interior door there, which is against code and VERY drafty, and allows exhaust fumes in the house. We don't park in the garage (YET) but the draft is a huge issue. HUGE. The kids don't like to play in our playroom because it's so cold! Anyways, exterior doors are larger and have larger frames than interior doors, so this required some gyproc removal and ripping out of studs, etcetera. Very manly work. Oh, and it required moving a light switch a few inches to one side to accomodate the larger door. That took all day.

Meanwhile I baked. The day before I had sorted through our infant clothes so I was at least begun that project! Ayden volunteered me to bake cookies for his class valentine's day party so I decided to double a sugar cookie recipe and make homemade frosting. I burnt the first 48 cookies. Good grief. Totally burnt, NOT salvageable. Luckily I had doubled that recipe in order to bring some to Brent's parents' place that night, so theirs got tossed and Ayden's class got the rest of them. I even took the time to roll out the dough and cut them in heart shapes, all that energy went in the garbage can! Argh. The frosting was sure nice, though. I used Martha Stewart's Buttercream Frosting recipe. YUMMY. I had a taste or two: how else would I know it was the right balance of butter and icing sugar? My BG was fine because I kept the tasting to a minimum. I took pictures. When my camera cord shows up, I'll post pix.

The boys were happy to receive a cookie for dessert after breakfast this morning: a first in their lives, since breakfast dessert is obviously not common. =D I decorated their cookies with gummy hearts and the school ones with sprinkles. Matthew asked, "Why did we get double hearts?" And I said, "Because I love my boys twice as much as any other mom in the whole world!" They loved that.

Happy valentine's day!

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Quote of the Century

Parenting is sort of like putting a fitted sheet onto a bed: you can never really know if you've got the long end of the sheet lined up with the long end of the bed until you start putting it on. Then you adjust.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Not in labour!

Sorry for the quiet blog! A few asked about what's going on, but I'm not in labour! My mom was here for a few days helping me out and keeping me company, so I didn't post. Before that, I wanted to give people lots of time to see and comment some birth pep talks for me~I need them so much! And I appreciate them SO much, thank you all. You're the best, I'm going to read them every day and print them off to bring to the hospital for brent to read to me. It's amazing what a difference words like this make to my heart!
And the opposite: at the diabetic clinic today there was a substitute nurse for my regular nurse who is on holidays~the sub was subpar. She said THREE TIMES, "Well, I hope this birth goes well for you," which sounds really nice but the tone, people, the TONE: it was doubtful. "I hope so. Well, I sure hope so." I was confident. "Oh I am confident I'll do fine, I did just fine with him at 10 lbs 2 oz," and I pointed at Riley.
"Well, I hope so," doubtfully.

OMG, why would you DO that????!!!

Besides, you think I can't birth this baby naturally?

WATCH ME.

And I have tons of friends who will back me up on that.
xo

When labour starts, I'll post a quick note so you guys can pray for me. I'll do the same on FB and email. So rest assured that unless this labour is PRECIPITOUS and I wind up in the bathroom of my house holding a fresh baby and Riley as my only witness, I will let you know when labour begins.

=)

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

quote of the day

being fragile is not a sin. being broken and bruised and tender and a little afraid, hungry and confused and frustrated, tired and embarrassed and wanting to hide. this is the human condition. and i think this is what we need to be sharing with each other. this is what we need to hold out into the light so that others can see and understand and recognize their own condition within ours.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Hail Yeah

We had such a good weekend! The boys had originally been scheduled to go to the island for the weekend with their grandparents, but were cancelled at the last minute. The grandparents still went, but it was deemed not practical to take the kids, which was realistic! Since the kids had been told about the weekend away and were a bit bummed, we wanted to make the weekend special.
Friday we had family game night, and a fun dinner of fajitas! Always popular around here. We played the Harry Potter Lego board game (yes, it exists), which belongs to Ayden and which he's never actually won as of yet. Brent won both games. It's a game of equal parts chance and strategy, so it's not really Brent's fault that he won it--I've won it once and I have to say, it's not a *girls* game per se. It involves lots of spatial abstract manipulation that my brain generally draws a blank on. So you can see, not exactly solely strategic, if I won despite my handicap. Ayden got frustrated that he NEVER WINS HIS OWN GAME, but we still had fun.
Saturday both older boys had soccer at the same time, so we divided and conquered: Brent and Riley took Ayden to his game, me and baby took Matthew to his game. =)
Both kids played awesome. And had fun.
[aside: M's coach sucks eggs. He plays keepaway for REAL during practices and spends the entire games yelling ineffectually at his own kid. His own kid outweighs Matthew by at least 40% and likes to taunt him, garnering no response from his dad. I'm aware that as a mom to a boy I have to NOT march over there and fiddle with things, but DANG IT, IT'S HARD!]
After working up an appetite we reconvened and Brent made a brunch lunch with waffles, whipped cream, blueberries, fancy scrambled eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. Yummy! I had ONE waffle, and my BG was fine. Awesome! The kids devoured it.
Then we went the grandparents' place and packed up some of our stored stuff, especially our baby cradle and an infant car seat part and the baby bath, etc, to bring back home. The boys love their place.
Today we had church (fantastic sermon on marriage), and then a relaxing afternoon for me and the boys while B went to a Superbowl party and tried desperately to convince himself that he was sticking to his diet if he put celery on his plate next to the deep fried hot wings. He's in some contest at work whereby the guys see who loses the most weight in six weeks. [eye roll]. Guys and their competitions. No exercise or diet for two years and then WHAM, six weeks of nothing but exercise and diet! Lookit me be healthy! Ha ha. [rib jab].

I even gave each kid an individual bubble bath (more than one boy in the tub at a time is a cute photo op, but a recipe for a wet bathroom) this afternoon, while making Thai curry stir fry. SO YUMMY! And then I made cookies for their lunches tomorrow. Which I burnt. Martha Stewart, I am not.

My insulin needs have dropped this week, which indicates the placenta getting ready to give birth by dropping its production of progesterone (the hormone which creates the most insulin resistance in pregnant women). This usually happens 1-2 weeks before labour begins. I have 3 weeks til my due date so that puts me at full term, 38 or 39 weeks. What a journey, after being stressed about early labour at 24 weeks!

My ear is plugged. I think it might be infected.
I see my midwife tomorrow.
I need to write a birth plan pronto~here is an awesome one by Rixa at Stand and Deliver that makes me LAUGH! Transcribe the first version onto a hospital setting and you've got the gist of my birth plan! Rixa kind of makes fun of the whole birth plan idea, though she recognizes why women have them, but then she's an interesting birther. Her first baby was a totally planned unassisted pregnancy and unassisted birth (as in; she had no care provider, monitored her own blood pressure and fetal heart tones, laboured alone in her bathroom, and pushed her baby out and caught it herself. Afterwards, she called her hubby into the room). Her second baby she had a midwife attended home water birth, but her midwife had agreed to stay very much in the background and didn't listen to fetal heart tones or catch the baby. Her third birth should be sometime in the next week or two, and will be similar to her second birth. So you can see how a birth plan seems a little extraneous to her. Hospital births probably seem fairly alien.

As for me and my house, hospital births are all we've known, and all I will know experientially for myself. Fortunately, my hospital is midwife friendly and practices informed consent. I think at this point I'm worried most about interference after the birth~if the hospital want to take my baby to the NICU but I want continuous skin to skin, I'm going to be pretty upset. I mean, obviously I'll go WITH the baby and just do S2S in the NICU but what if I need sutures or something? I want NO SEPARATION. I mean, nobody holds that baby but me til I'm ready and then I pass it to HIS OR HER DADDY!
I'm thinking of bringing in my own milk just in case they're worried about baby's blood sugar and want to feed it formula~there's no milk bank at my hospital. I'm not sure how much colostrum I can pump at this point, but I'll give it a shot. A tiny bit of high calorie colostrum goes a very long way with newborns. Can you believe colostrum is not recognized by my spellcheck? GET WITH THE HUMAN CONDITION, SPELLCHECK. I'm also thinking of asking a friend to give me a bottle of her milk to take with me. Do you think the staff will be suspicious if it's white milk instead of yellow colostrum? Lol.

I better go to bed.
xo, all

One last thing; do you mind leaving me some birth affirmation comments or emails? My confidence is still waffling, and with the kind of obstetrical complications I've had and hits to my confidence, I'm just needing some "Yes, you can!" and prayers and just general love. Thanks! xoxoxo

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Dirt

You have to read my friend Janet's post today, titled Fragile. Its gorgeous.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Life With a Two Year Old




I've been doing better. More relaxed. My blood sugars have been good, I have no previa, and I've been trying to focus on CAN rather than can't. Riley, Ayden, and I watched The Business of Being Born last night. (Matthew's an early to bed, early to riser so he was asleep already). When I put Riley to bed afterwards, he cried and cried because he wanted to "See more baby come out." So funny. So cute. So weird.

I heard a woman on the radio describe life with a toddler recently (paraphrased): Life with a toddler is a lot like that Bill Murray movie, Groundhog Day~where it's the same day over and over and over again!
This description made me howl with laughter; it is so true!

A few other laughable things about life with a two year old include

-Dramatic emotional displays. Like when it's time to turn The Backyardigans movie off, Riley always whines about watching more and flops his head on the ground in abject despair.

-Nudity. All two year olds prefer to be nude ALL THE TIME.

-Next best thing? Wearing only underwear. And with underwear, he's sneaky. Suddenly, its off, and if you call him on it, he tips his head to the side and points his finger at you and says, "Mine too hot." Like UNDERWEAR is going to make a thermal difference.

-Absolute favorite toy: penis. There's nothing like a boy asking to suck on your boob while he's fiddling with his penis.

-Particular. They are all particular. Riley's particularities include a passion for slippers, mittens, his scarf, The Backyardigans (I suggested Rubadubbers the other day and it was like I asked him to please eat mud), and eating pretty much every waking moment of the day. He reminds me of one of these:


You know, the Baleen Whales who swim around with their mouths open, eating whatever comes their way? If you're eating sausage, he has to have some. Eggs? He's dying for eggs. Apples, fruit, beans, cottage cheese, bread, milk, salsa, yogurt, breads, cereals, meat, rice, fish, vegetables, YOU NAME IT, HE'LL EAT IT all day long. And of course candy and hot chocolate. When he's not eating, he's declaring, "MINE HUNGEE" at the top of his lungs.

-He's also particular about his pyjamas. He prefers to wear ONLY pyjamas and not get dressed, and his favorites are spiderman pyjamas. I have to talk long and hard to make him get those off.

-One method that works is to wait til he drops food on them. He's particular about being dirty too, which is hilarious because he's a KID, you would think he'd be all, MEH, like every other kid but instead he's taking his pyjamas off at warp speed, frantic for me to wash them. Maybe he inherited my anxiety disorder that is frequently triggered by a fear of contamination? Ha ha.
(its true; one of my biggest triggers is being contaminated, by any number of things including germs, radiation, bugs, uncleanliness, or evil. Being crazy is crazy fun)

-Another particularity is having everyone in our family all together. If anyone is away for even ten minutes, he's asking where they are and if its time to pick them up. "Daddy go? Ay-en go? Ma-hew go?" And if I'm away it's, "WANT MOMMY!" All day long he asks me, "Time pick up Ay-en Ma-hew?" He's happiest when we're all together. Of course then he's asking, "Go Gampa Gamma houff?" He's good with the "G" but not so much with the "S"~he calls our dog Himon.

-Yesterday he patted my belly and said, "Mine like baby."

-He has trouble with transitions. He wants to put on his own boots/socks/mittens/jacket/seat belt/underwear/pants/wash his own hair/zip his own coat/climb into the van himself/etc/etc,
"NO MINE DO IT!"
It's funny how he calls himself mine. Aren't we all a bit self possessive? Riley's just up front about it.

-He has a favorite book. We read it 2786235987 times a day and it has a baby dressed in a snow suit whom he calls "BIG HAT BABY" (meaning big, fat baby because of the snow suit) and which he thinks is hysterical. I might burn the book.

-His favorite knock knock joke is this:
Knock knock
who's there?
dirt.
Dirt who?
DIRT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

wow. It's even funnier the 267809934837th time you hear it.

-He can count to five on his fingers. He does pre reading stuff: following the words with his finger, making up stories, etc. He's incredibly tidy. He can sort objects. This is nice, except when you want to leave a project halfway done and GET OUT THE DOOR!

It's hilarious because Riley is so tidy and particular and Matthew, four years older, is so messy and free spirited. Matthew could still stand to wear a bib at mealtimes. Riley hasn't needed one for a year and a half. I lost my composure at dinner tonight because I looked at Matthew and he had a literal rice moustache. And he had NO IDEA. I snorted because I laughed so hard. Matthew leaves a trail behind him of castoff items, papers, crumbs, broken elastic bands, books, bags, jackets, boots: you never forget that Matthew's around when he's there. Hysterical juxtaposed with the boy who cries when we run out of napkins.

-He also hates when his toe jam goes down the drain.

-Yesterday he dropped a bin on his toe and it bled a bit, so I put a bandaid and some polysporin on it, and suddenly he was crippled. OMG, he couldn't walk, I had to carry him everywhere, he couldn't forget his toe, he talked about it all day, he'd be sitting on the couch talking about "Mine toe," until the bandaid came off and he finally forgot about it! Too hilarious. Those batman bandaids take far to long to fix owies these days. They don't make bandaids like the used to.

-What two year old boy doesn't LOVE to wrestle his overripely pregnant mother? Seriously. She's forever lying down on the couch, doesn't she know that's the UNIVERSAL SIGNAL FOR WRESTLING?!???!!!!!!! If my water doesn't break early I'll be surprised. Or perhaps my placenta dislodge completely from my uterus, jeepers.

-He's his own man. And he's awfully cute.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Ultrasound results:

NO PREVIA!!!

My placenta is nowhere near my cervix.
Great news!
Now I want to go to bed and hibernate for approximately three weeks....I'm so tired!

What a relief.

Thank you for praying, it made an enormous difference in my state of mind, and God has just given me back the gift of a natural birth. Good gift. Pretty big. Thank you muchos!!!