Wow. I can’t believe how incredibly busy I’ve been – the kind of busy where at the end of the day you aren’t even sure you “accomplished” much else than feeding yourselves and changing diapers and trying to keep the toddler from accidentally falling down the stairs or ON the baby. Besides updating my facebook, I’ve pretty much broken up with the internet. It’s not that I mean to, I’m just THAT busy…and I’m needed elsewhere, so that’s where I am.

Even though it hasn’t been that long – only a couple of years – since I last had a newborn in my arms, I guess I had forgotten some things…

You know, like the fact that you can go through an entire package of 84 diapers in TWO WEEKS! And, that 4+ po0py diapers a day was normal…and, the um…fragrance and consistency of it all. Mmm. And, I think I forgot the random fussiness where you THINK it’s one thing but then you’re totally wrong and after you’ve spent 2 hours changing the baby, singing to the baby, walking with the baby, rocking the baby, trying to persuade the baby to take a pacifier, covering the baby and then uncovering her when she screams in protest….then, it’s time to eat again…and by the time you’ve decided it MUST be gas, they fall asleep for 30 minutes. How I forgot that bit, I’ll never know. Or…how they just want to be held and will not be tricked by fancy swings that play them music and rock them with actual consistency and won’t fall asleep and stop in mid-rock…and how you become virtually useless when you have a floppy newborn in your arms who doesn’t really like to stay in one place…

Ahhhh…love it. (Really, I do.)

This time is a little different though…Because not only am I the personal poop disposer, but I’m also breakfast, lunch, and dinner – and the 80 snacks in between (it seems). I didn’t realize I’d be sleeping on towels, wishing for pain relievers and numbing gels (during the first week), or mostly topless – but it’s been a good experience and I’m FINALLY to the part where it begins to be enjoyable. Except for the towels. Steven has been super supportive although I think he was a little disappointed when he figured out that the nursing camis with snap-down boobie pieces was not lingerie, but for nursing. That, and he now realizes that not only is he glad to have been born a male, but is also glad that men can’t nurse babies. Wuss.

May has been full so far – A being born, checkups, baby blessing, recovering, catching up on chores, the wonderful baby shower that a few beautiful ladies threw for me (thanks!)… Then, tomorrow is the 2 week check up for Baby A AND Steven and my anniversary. This weekend is Memorial Day Weekend and a special lunch for our church’s seniors… and my dad’s birthday… And, so much more on the to-do list.

So, tomorrow we plan to wake up at the crack of dawn (oh wait, we do that anyway…sort of) and then go to A’s appointment. Mom is taking the day off tomorrow to watch the girls so we can have some “date” time. We still have the movie gift card that my parents gave us for Christmas and MAY be able to grab something to eat if I have enough on a different gift card we were gifted for Christmas by my parents. If all else fails, we may hide away at the library or in books a million and read. Because we’re nerds. And broke. Then, on Friday my mom has ordered us a DEEP FREEZER for our anniversary gift from her and dad and Grams! I’m super excited. A freezer has been on our wish list for a couple of years, now and we’re finally getting one! I never thought I’d be this excited over an appliance but our freezer is packed and we could shave off a little more of the cost of food if we could cook larger quantities and then freeze for later. Saturday, we’re planning on taking the girls downtown for some festivities and then, of course, church on Sunday …and, Monday, a cookout! Woo! Super excited though.

In other news, still no news on the job front. Well…a lot of “No’s” it seems. It’s really frustrating and I have “freak out periods” where I have to be reminded that just because I don’t see HIM working, He’s there. There are a couple of free lance jobs that are possibilities, which would last us about a month or two. And, then we’re also looking at the possibility of Steven going back to school and contracting with ROTC — BUT a few things have to be accomplished before that can be a possibility, and time isn’t on our side. So, please pray for us on that one. It’s really important.

So, that catches us up, I think…All over the place, but I felt like I needed to write.

Oh… and the magical garden that got confused and grew upside down (died)… we replanted it yesterday… both of them.

Welcome back!

I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I’d been tricked and my baby wouldn’t be coming for another year or so.  It certainly felt like it, anyhow.  I’d scoured the do-it-yourself “natural” induction lists and had tried all but a few.  And, although I’d promised myself that I would under no circumstances drink castor oil – I began doubting that, too.  Fortunately, some very great people persuaded me against that idea seeing as how it could end up doing more harm than good and stimulating some awful contractions, something I had been trying to avoid by NOT inducing with pitocin (and, at least with pitocin I could not be nauseous or sick).

By Sunday (May 3, 2009), I had stocked up on books in an effort to keep my brain busy and relaxed – all at once.  I had also done my best to come up with ideas for things to fill my days until labor came on its own.

We’d just left the church picnic, and I was exhausted.  It was only 2:30 PM, but it felt like 9PM.  I’d been overly tired for a couple of days and figured it was just par for the course – that, and I was tired of getting my hopes up only to be nothing.  But, by 7:30 PM I felt sick – without any castor oil, thank you – and by 8 PM I had back cramps and contractions pretty regularly.  We ate a Stouffer’s lasagna for supper around 9 PM and then headed for bed.  The contractions were still regular, but weren’t getting very intense yet, so I wasn’t banking much on them.  The night was filled with on and off again sleep and a lot of me asking Steven to wake up to rub my lower back.

And then at 2:00 AM, I noticed it.

She wasn’t moving.  Actually, I couldn’t remember her moving for HOURS.  Slightly panicky, I shook Steven’s shoulder, trying to get him to wake up.  He groggily got out of bed and poured the rest of the cranberry juice into a glass for me – which, was such a small amount of juice that it could have probably easily fit into a medicine dropper.  I laid on my side and drank the juice, waiting and ready to count baby kicks.  But there were none.  I kept replaying the nurses telling me that during contractions and labor, you SHOULD feel the baby moving…my contractions were steady, and she wasn’t moving…was something wrong?  I dialed the hospital nursery and was advised to drink more juice or Sprite – both items we didn’t have.  Heck, we didn’t even have brownies!  (Although, looking back – I guess I could have eaten straight sugar!)

We packed the remainder of our bags and headed for the hospital, calling my mom on the way so she could meet us there to pick up Lorelei.

On the way, I felt the baby move once (within an hour) and felt my contractions resume the intensity they had been earlier.  Possibly slightly stronger.  They weren’t hard contractions…they were just uncomfortable and made me slightly breathless as they came and went (yet I could still talk and walk through them, easily).

Once we arrived to the hospital, we were immediately led upstairs and I was hooked to monitors as Steven found a comfy corner with a chair and began to doze off.  The baby was okay, just probably asleep.  My contractions, on the other hand, were showing up even more consistent than I had thought.  So, at 3:00 AM, the doctor on call decided to keep me for observation.

I watched the clock, waiting for a semi-decent time to call my doula.  I hadn’t wanted to call her too early just in case it was nothing (again) and figured at least if I looked like a fool with no witnesses, I could pretend it never happened!  6 AM FINALLY rolled around and I made the call.  She arrived in record time and even brought breakfast for both Steven and I!  Up until this point, I had declined any bloodwork or routine IVs, since I didn’t know whether I was progressing or if I’d be staying.  I was given the chance to walk without the monitors for an hour, and Stephanie and I walked the halls as Steven tried to rest.  The contractions were still steady, although it felt better to be able to walk.  We walked each of the 8 floors and then went back to my room to see if my doctor had come in yet.

She hadn’t, but a nurse checked me and found that I was now 4 cm dilated (an entire cm than before)!  My doctor was called and I was given 3 choices:

1.  I could be induced with pitocin at this point
2.  They could break my waters and I could lay in bed with an IV (so the baby’s cord wouldn’t get in the way)
3.  Or, I could go home

I asked if maybe there could be a compromise – if, perhaps I could be monitored at the hospital for another few hours and walk and if my contractions got stronger LATER…like, by 2 pm but I wasn’t progressing enough if THEN we could talk about inducing…just so I wouldn’t be in labor for 2 days straight.  My doctor said NO.  Induce now or wait until 6 AM the next day.  She said she had plans with her husband that evening…and it’d just be unfair to shove it all on a different doctor.

“But…I’m IN labor now.  So, even if it takes me forever, the possibility that I’ll be here LATE tonight on another doctor’s watch is pretty high.  What’s the difference between them delivering THEN vs. delivering at a decent time with pitocin?”

My doctor was convinced that I wasn’t actually IN labor yet, though and didn’t really think it mattered much.  She wasn’t budging.

So, by 10 AM, I’d signed the discharge papers and we left the hospital to rest and shower at my mom’s house while Steph did some things she needed to.

At mom’s, I soon figured out that resting wasn’t really going to work.  The contractions had picked up a little and laying down made them feel more intense.  At this point, my doctor had already called, concerned by my question to a nurse about whether another hospital would deliver my baby if I didn’t have a doctor, since mine wouldn’t be on call anyhow, and the doctor that WOULD be on call was a man who I didn’t have a positive experience with in the past – the same man who undoubtedly had saved my life 8 years ago, but had also managed to make me feel scared and alone in the process.  My doctor told me to come back in and she’d give me lots of choices, but I’m fairly sure she still didn’t grasp exactly what I wanted….  A birth with few interventions (unless necessary) and preferably no pitocin, no epidurals.  Just the chance to let my labor progress on its own.

Finally, around noon (ish), I decided I couldn’t lay down any more.  I planned to eat lunch at McAllister’s and walk around the mall  ( air conditioned and with MANY distractions) to see if my contractions would pick up some.  We had no sooner entered the parking lot before the contractions had picked up even more, and I was ready to just eat in the car.  With a little prodding, though, my mom and Steven had me at the counter ordering my meal.

“For here or to go?” the cashier asked.
“We’ll start with here, but we’ll probably end up ‘to go’”
He just looked at me funny…and confused.
“I’m in labor.  Things might get interesting.”  I said, holding onto the counter
“OH.  Umm…”

(That’s right, buddy.  Be scared.  Very scared.  Bwahahahaha)

I asked mom to find a booth with lots of padding and away from PEOPLE.  She found a booth…right next to people.  (In her defense, there weren’t any away from people and the booth was bolted down, so moving it to the bathroom would’ve been near impossible.  Unfortunately.)

The contractions kept coming, each one lasting a little longer and harder it seemed.  I had been timing them just right so I could eat a bite in between…but apparently I misjudged one and found myself with a mouthful of basil chicken panini and trying to ride out a contraction.

“Just Breathe in through your nose and out your mouth” my mother cooed.

I eyed her, annoyed, wondering if I should “breathe” out the chicken sandwich in her direction but instead clamped my mouth shut as I tried to breathe in and out of my nose.

That’s when the manager chose to stop by our table to ask if everything was okay.  My mom and Steven tried to nod him hurriedly away, but he didn’t look so sure as he looked at my red face and bulging eyes, my white knuckles grasping the table.  I would guess I looked like an angry bull …or like I was choking and nobody was helping.  He walked away a lot faster than he came.

Suddenly, the entire restaurant seemed to be aware that something weird was going on.  The pregnant chick in the corner was acting really really weird…and so, naturally…they all wanted to look…stare…and see.

I gave up on the sandwich.  I’d eaten half and waited just long enough for a to go box for the other half (for Steven) and half ran out the door…as much as a huge pregnant woman could run/waddle, that is.

Back inside the car, I noted how stupid of an idea it was to walk the mall.  So, we headed back to mom’s house – I thought maybe we could put a movie on (which I may or may not watch) and use the birthing ball and maybe even the tub and such.

I made it up the driveway and inside…and barely to the bathroom and back.  The contractions were MUCh stronger now.  Requiring me to stop and hold something and these brought either moans or tears (or both) with them.  Mom and Steven outvoted me and decided we needed to go back to the hospital.  So, we called Steph again about our 3rd change in plans and she met us there.  Upon arrival, I was 5-6 cm dilated.

Then, I kind of lose concept of time.  I know we sat together watching my contractions on the screen, while Stephanie and mom and Steven held my hands and rubbed my feet as they got more and more intense.  I remember them playing my music, and getting Stadol which made me feel goofy and the contractions slightly less intense.  I remember changing into different positions: kneeling, squatting, sitting.

By 6pm, I was 7 cm.

My doctor had already left and the on-call doctor, Dr. C came into the room.  He made it very clear that he didn’t “DO” birth plans and wanted to know what my plan was.

Um…to have a baby?  What else do you say to that when you took the time to write out some of the specific things you wanted and didn’t all in a handy and somewhat humorous format?

He suggest we break my water to get things going…

6:50 pm, they broke my waters.

The contractions began to get even MORE intense and I asked for another round of Stadol.  This time, though, it didn’t make things funny – it made me confused.  The contractions came hard, one on top of another and I barely found time to breathe and couldn’t stay grounded in my thoughts.  In fact, my thoughts began fleeting and I couldn’t keep up with conversations to or around me.

“Ooooooooh.  No.  I can’t do this anymore…” I moaned.
“You can.  You will.  You have to, Ash…”  Steph said, her hands around my face and hair.

I was ready to be done, begging to be finished.  My concentration kept going in and out like waves.  Words bounced through my head, not sticking together, losing their meaning.

The baby.  Her heart rate.  Something was wrong.  Turn this way.  No, that way.  This way again.  Move.  Breathe.

My mind slipped in and out as everyone but me watched the screen with Aurora’s heartbeat waxing and waning through my contractions.

An oxygen mask was fitted over my nose and mouth in an attempt to slow down my breathing.  The pain was intense and I no longer had any control.  The waves of contractions were drowning me and as much as I tried to fight through the pain, it overwhelmed me and my body began pushing against my will.  I struggled to keep up with it, and to stay awake and coherent.

By 8 PM, I was 8 centimeters.  My entire body tightened with each contraction, unable to relax.  I could feel my legs trying to cross themselves, trying to hold off.  My teeth clenched together through each surge.

Then, Dr. C came back in.  He told me I had 2 choices.  I would either receive an epidural or I’d get a C-Section.  Period.

My body and mind were too tired to fight.  I hadn’t wanted an epidural, I had been SO against it – but I hadn’t imagined labor lasting for so long or my baby being in possible danger.  And, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could deal with the pain.  So, I chose epidural.

By 8:35 PM, I was still 8 cm and the epidural was being prepped.  At that point, I was allowed only one person in the room and I chose Steph, my doula.  Everyone else had seemed to fade into the background for the most part.  Bob, the anesthesiologist had me sit, regardless of whether I was experiencing a strong contraction AT THAT MOMENT or not.  Then, move to the edge of the bed….

Soon, it was finished, and I lay back, waiting for the medicine to be adjusted.  Waiting for the numbness to take over my body, forcing it to relax.

Within minutes, I was fully dilated and told to push.  And, besides the fact that I could feel NOTHING, I did my best.  I asked for a mirror as the nurse tried to coach me through pushing towards a place I couldn’t even feel and I gritted my teeth, hoping to God that I was pushing at all, much less in the right area.  I watched their faces as they got excited and would take another deep breath and grit my teeth some more.  I’m still not sure I was even doing anything, but something worked.

At 9:39 PM, Aurora Madeline Grace was born.

6.75 lbs  and 19.5 in long

Welcome sweet girl…we’re so glad you’re here.

*Note 1:  I have decided that men should be required to first grow a vagina as a prerequisite to become an OB/GYN or to be allowed to be an anesthesiologist for laboring women.
*Note 2:  I am so thankful for my mom, Steven, and Steph – without you, I would have still probably had Aurora…but I’d probably have gone crazy first.  Thanks for keeping me sane and for making me feel like the most loved lady on Earth.  I love each of you.
*Note 3:  Thanks dad for watching Miss L.  I appreciate it.

I would like to introduce…

Aurora Madeline Grace

(More to come later, I’m too busy kissing pudgy cheeks!)

I’m still pregnant.

That, and the whole “she’ll come when she’s ready” thing?  It’s getting old.  Like a geezer in plaid pants and suspenders old.

That’s all for now.  I’m going to go sit on a ball and read now.

I remember my very first car-ride as a new mom – we were on our way home from the hospital, and it was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.  For the first time, my baby was not only outside of me, but we were leaving the confines of a well-protected area and venturing out into the “big world” with cars and reckless drivers and such.

That was the longest 50-minute ride home I have ever had.

As I held her hand, my over-active imagination saw each and every possible calamity that could happen from our starting point to our home.  I’m not sure how I maintained by consciousness during that ride home because I’m pretty sure I held my breath almost the entire way.

I smile as I remember back to holding her little body in my arms.  I remember how she was tiny and we were scared to hold her at first, scared we’d break her – my brother and dad took a while to warm up to holding her while not sitting down, even.  And, then I look back at motherhood in general during those days, and forward…and I can see the changes.  For me, being a new mother has been much like a dance, where I’m continuously learning the next steps and becoming more confident with my abilities as a mom.

During Lorelei’s first few months of life, I was terrified to just leave her.  It took weeks before I would leave her for a few hours, and then even more time before I finally left her for an entire night.  I actually remember that night.  My parents wanted to keep her for the night, and I wanted them to – yet, the fear of WHAT IFs just wouldn’t leave my head.  WHAT IF SHE NEEDED ME?  WHAT IF SHE DIED FROM SIDS OR SOMETHING AND I WASN’T THERE?  WHAT IF?  WHAT IF?  After about 30 minutes of rehashing “the plan” for almost any conceivable emergency, I walked out of their door with tears running down my cheeks.  “You don’t have to do this, and you don’t have to do it tonight, you know,” my mother said.  “I know,” I replied, “but, I have to do it sometime.”

The second time was not quite as hard and the third got even easier.  After that, I missed her before I even left but things were much easier and I was finally able to enjoy the free couple time that came with your child being watched by someone else you trusted dearly.

But, the dance went on and I began to grow in other ways as I came face to face with situations that I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle.

As a child, I had HORRID allergic reactions – and, while most of my reactions were environmental rather than food (with a few exceptions), I knew that if Lorelei were to get my allergies, it was possible that they could show up in any form and with even worse consequences.  So, for the first 18 months of her life, she was carefully introduced to new foods and I was set against offering her candy, soda, or any other junk food just yet.  This was something that not everyone agreed fully with me on.  I’m still not entirely sure those who disagreed fully understood my reasoning, but their actions against my wishes infuriated me.  I felt that she was too young for junk food, and since we hadn’t introduced it yet, she didn’t want it.  Of course, she’d take it…but she wasn’t asking FOR IT, specifically.  She still preferred healthier things – like juice and fruits.  Furthermore, I couldn’t see the reasoning behind giving my child foods that were simply not good for her and could only further damage the resistance her immune system had built up, making her more prone to allergies.  As a new mother, I made it clear where I stood on the issue, and with every too-early offering of a finger dipped in peanut butter or a spoonful of chocolate ice cream or a swig of soda while they thought I couldn’t see, I became angrier and felt more and more like my own ideas about parenting MY CHILD were not only not being taken seriously, but were also being all-together ignored.

There was also the season of parenting where I was extremely picky with whom Lorelei was allowed to spend the night with.  To be frank, I took parenting seriously and my mind reeled at the notion that children were mostly indestructible.  I realize that sometimes children live in spite of their parents, but those weren’t necessarily the people I wanted in charge of my child’s health and well-being – especially while she was at the fragile age of having to depend on everyone to decode every cry and whimper for her.  In particular, I remember a suggestion to let my infant daughter sleep on pillows on a chair and I remember my breath sucking up through my chest.  I’d read the baby books and SIDS terrified me.  I countered the suggestion with what I’d read, only to be laughed at told that they’re children turned out just fine.  But, that wasn’t good enough for me.  It wasn’t a chance I was willing to take with the miracle that I’d fought so hard for, the life that had been entrusted to me.

Then, there was the season of parenting  where I cared so much about everyone thought.  I sifted through views and ideas about things from toxins in our environment to vaccination to organics, and I had to choose where I would stand with each.  At first, each time I was met with a conflicting view or a disapproving glance, I’d run back to the information, just to read it again.  Each time, I’d feel like the most awful parent for choosing something that was perhaps not “main-stream” thought and practice.

There were other seasons too…seasons of feeling like I wasn’t good enough, seasons of feeling like certain people didn’t have time for us in their busy lives, seasons of learning to dance my dance around other people’s dances, seasons of good, and seasons of bad…all seasons of learning.

Soon, we’ll be the blessed parents to yet another beautiful daughter, and while I know this time will be different, I believe it will be much the same.  My dance has evolved, but it is still much like the one I began with, only more refined and a little less clumsy.

This time, I won’t have to close my eyes with dread on the way home, fearing the worst.  This time, I’ll be able to let my little one spend the night with her grandparents and walk out the door without having to focus on moving forward just to keep from running back to her.  But, this time… I still won’t let her have soda and I still won’t let her have foods before I believe she’s ready.  Her intake on junk food and chocolates and possible allergens will be limited, just the same.  This time, I’ll stand strong in my beliefs and demand respect for MY parenting skills, too.  I don’t disrespect other’s beliefs, nor do I try to change them, but when it comes to MY child I want my ideas and wishes to be respected.  This time, I’ll still be a little leery letting her spend the night out and will probably need to go over “just in case plans,” but I’ll be able to do it.

And, this time?  I’ll realize that no matter how involved I want people to be in our lives -or how I think they should be, it’s ultimately their choice.  This time I’ll try to remember that not everyone will want or be committed to having a close relationship with my daughters, and that not everyone will bond with them the way I think is best…but, it’s their way.  And, as long as I’m being respected and my daughters are safe, I’ll let go a little more.

Because the dance will be fabulous one day, I’m getting better and better each and every day…

No baby yet.  *Sigh*

This week at my appointment, I’d really hoped they would’ve told me I had progressed SOMEHOW, that I was either dilated more (I’ve been 1 cm dilated since last week) or effaced.  Something.  But, there was no change.  Steven will be going out of town soon and it scares me that I could go into labor without him.  Not that I couldn’t do it without him, but because I WANT him there.  I need him there for support.  Besides, who else can I make rude gestures and remarks towards that will actually think it’s kind of funny?  He’s the only person I can think of that I can threaten to stab his liver with a dull spoon and he finds it HUMOROUS – regardless of how serious I may be at the moment.  This is one of the reasons I love him.

So, I was hoping I’d basically progress on my own or be induced before he went out of town, thereby canceling his trip OR well…canceling the trip so he’d be with me and there’d be NO chance that I could have the baby over the few days he would be gone into a high security area with no cell phone service as a huge possibility – and miles away.

But, my doctor said I hadn’t progressed – DESPITE the fact that I all but drank 80 gallons of red raspberry leaf tea, squatted like a duck, and all but begged my husband to please just hurry up and have sex with me (and do it fast), because this baby needs to GET OUT NOW.  He’s been a trooper, let me tell you.  But, he understands…he was hoping he’d get to skip the “out of town engagement” as well.

Instead, I’m still 1 cm but have miraculously grown to 124 lbs.  This HAS to be water weight, now.  HAS to be.  I’ve been drinking TONS of water and herbal tea and MAN.  We won’t mention my last two trips to the chocolate factory.  Nope we won’t.  The rash is gone for now.  I ended up going to the doctor a day early last week and got a prescription refilled for the cream I had earlier in the pregnancy.  It took the stuff like 3 days to kick it, and I’m proud to say that I’m no longer slimy feeling…OR itchy!  I also think my skin is beginning to go back to it’s original state – more of a combination rather than “dry” and scaly…thank heavens!

False labor comes and goes here and there but mostly stops when I get up.  Mostly.  And, it never really gains intensity.  Except this morning.  THIS morning was contractions in my tummy rather than my back and felt more like knives instead of cramping and wowza, they hurt.  My legs and feet ached like crazy..but it all went away after a bit.  At this point, I really wish she’d come – but, I wish the contractions would either be the real thing…or not.  It’s killing my sleeping habits…you know, the habit of sleeping at night time?!

And, somehow…I’ve still been able to avoid the dreaded AWFUL heartburn I had last time.  Granted, I’ll get little twinges here and there but it’s NOTHING like I had with L.  Oh, and my favorite breakfast right now is homemade whole wheat waffles with carmelized bananas.  YUM.  Steven makes them for me and well, YUM.  I used to make these for Lorelei when she was a wee one and didn’t throw her food at me.

This past Tuesday, a friend of mine invited some of my closest friends to one of my favorite restaurants and it was soooo wonderful!  I love getting together with them all and was excited to be able to share that time with them since we all end up really busy with our own families.  Then, to top it off, they paid my check AND showered me with some VERY well thought out goodies!  These ladies know me – each and every gift was PERFECT.  I’m telling you.  PERFECT.  EACH ONE.  I’m so incredibly blessed and love them all so very much!

—–

And, now for something new:

————————THANKFUL THURSDAYS——————————–

Funny conversations.  Great friends who truly know you.   A husband who will wake up in the middle of the night just rub my back and sit with me when I’m hurting.  A God who loves me no matter what.  My crazy-awesome doula whom I LOVE.  Chocolate Factory Fudge.  Flamingo Row Shipwrecks.  My parents and brother and the rest of my family – some of the most loving and generous people I know.  My father-in-law, who would drop everything to come and see us.  Lorelei’s sweet kisses, hugs, and smiles.  The best church-family ever.  Indoor plumbing.  A place to let go.  Ability to hear with my heart even when my head won’t shut up.

…and for second and third and billionth chances…

It’s crazy to not have a doctor appointment today.  I’ve had my appointments on Tuesdays right after lunch pretty much since I became pregnant!  I thought for sure I’d have trouble remembering the appointment, but then there’s the whole I DON’T GET OUT MUCH thing, so this is like my big outing.  Yeh, sad, I know.  I look forward to Walmart trips too, and I know that makes me weird, too. 

Anyhow, at 37 weeks…

Occasional back-ache cramp type stuff go on.  Like period cramps, cept not.  Obviously.

Most days, I feel REALLY drained and exhausted and literally have no energy.  For anything.  You could tell me there was a cupcake on the counter and I wouldn’t even get up.  See?  THAT should tell you something.

The nausea.  It’s THISCLOSE to throwing up, but I don’t.  It’s random.  Sometimes it’s mornings, sometimes it’s during the day (like now), and sometimes it’s at night while I’m trying to sleep.  Sometimes it just kind of stays with me all dang day.  But, I don’t actually throw up.  The nurses have offered me more Zofran, but since I’m not losing lots of food and it’s mostly just a pain, I’d rather not take the extra medication.

The itchy rash.  It’s BACK!  The one that makes me want to peel my skin off.  They never really figured out what it was before, and I’m hesitant (again) to get the cream again just because I feel like it’s medicine that will also go to my baby and I really think I can tough it out for a few more weeks.  I’ll just whine all about it!  The doc’s office has since wished they’d gotten me in today rather than Thursday so they could check it out again but my calendar is kind of already full up until Thursday.

Standing hurts.  Sitting hurts.  Sometimes, even laying hurts.  I’m in the uncomfortable part now.  Sitting straight up makes me want to puke, and puts pressure where pressure isn’t really fun.  Standing feels like I’ve, what…got a kid’s head between my legs?  And, laying down gets uncomfy when the baby decides to lay all funky, taking my tummy with her and leaving me in a really weird position.

Tremors.  Actually, my belly (or should I say uterus?) has been VIBRATING occasionally.  I looked it up because when I ask people about it, I get weird looks.  It SERIOUSLY feels like she’s having seizures.  It’s not a wiggle or a roll or hiccups or little situating.  It lasts for like 10-15 seconds or so and is like seizures.  But then she acts fine.  I think L might have done this too and she’s perfectly fine.  So, yeh.  I don’t know what it is.

Vitamins make me sick, so I’m not really taking them right now.  (But I’ve upped my fruit/veggie intake)

I’m eating smaller meals more often.  Or trying.  I’m getting full-feeling faster.

Definitely have to pee alot.  As in frequently.  Like every 10 minutes sometimes.

I SO DID go buy a vinyl mattress cover because the thought of peeing in the bed or my water breaking in the bed freaks me out…only because this mattress is basically brand new and won’t fit in the washer.

The baby clothes have been brought downstairs and are now hanging on hangers.  Most of them.  …You know, the ones L hasn’t pulled off the hanger yet.

Everything else in this house looks like a disaster zone and I just want to sleep.  So, when do I get the surge of energy?  I have cloth napkins to make, a house to clean, and other stuff to make!  What the heck!

We still have a huge list of stuff to do… like pack the bags, install the carseat (and find the carseat), clean out the SUV, mow the shaggy lawn, and stuff like that.  Oh and clean the house.  Bleh.

Besides having crazy weird dreams and now weighing 117 lbs (I gained 4 lbs in 2 weeks?!), pretty much everything still feels the same.  Same dry skin as 2 weeks ago (but not nearly as bad as 1st and 2nd trimester) – this is just normal dry skin – not the flesh eating sort that makes you want to just rip your skin off.  My entire body is slowly just plumping up, and if I were a cow I’d be worried.  Basically, I’m feeling really good this past week.  Today, I actually had a burst of energy and was able to clean up and vacuum L’s room and put together her toddler bed (yippee!  I can now mark THAT off the list), bake 2 loaves of bread – one whole wheat and one whole wheat banana bread), and wash a load of clothes.  So, those things are finished and I feel rather accomplished, thankyouverymuch.

A friend of mine hooked me up with a HUGE stack of birth books to read so I’ve been quite busy with those.  I know the technicalities of it all, as I’ve been here before, but I love reading the different approaches and mindsets for birth.  I’ve read some very hippy books as well as some not-so hippy books.  I’ve read books that suggest you moo like a cow during labor (which I totally plan to do, by the way) and others that focus on hypnobirthing (something I may use PART of to help me in certain stages of my labor).

My favorites so far are definitely:

Ina May’s book

The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin, P.T.

Birthing From Within by Pam England and Rob Horowitz

Basically, Ina May is just really cool and would possibly make me consider heading to her “farm” to have this baby…except not.  But, the idea was entertained in my head, and that means something.  (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Ina May is a midwife and she has this “Farm” where women can come and give birth in close proximity to doctors and such, but they stay in these cabins and go for completely natural.)  The Birth Partner is supposed to be for Steven to read, but I’m basically reading it and then giving him the cliff notes.  Right now, I’m loving that it’s one of the few books I’ve found that actually TELLS you how to deliver a baby in an emergency setting.  Not something I want to have to know, necessarily, but would be really cool to print out the info to have in the car and house…on hand.  It also has all sorts of other information, although some of it is a little bit dated (but not too bad).  The third book, Birthing From Within combines art and creativity with preparing for labor so I obviously LOVE this one.  One of the authors actually teaches her own classes (which this book is based off of) and I think it’d be super great to be able to attend those.

Anyways, those are 3 that I’d completely recommend – regardless of what TYPE of birth you are going for…whether you want a completely sterile hospital birth or you want to go all crunchy granola and do it at home.  Good stuff.

Hello!  Well, I was told that I should probably have a birth plan and, to be honest I did: Have a baby.  But, the greater forces that be didn’t think that was good enough, so I logged on to a website that basically made one for me.  I threw that one away.  It was like 4 pages long and didn’t even have pictures or diagrams or anything.  So, I decided to make my own.

I know you already know my name and basic sexual history from my chart and all, but I heard that you should really make friends with the nurses – and, I just want you to know that I’m totally down with that.  Usually, I don’t really let my friends touch me in all the places you’re about to, but I understand.  I would like to request, though, that you at least chat me up a little beforehand, you know – so it doesn’t feel so cold and all.  Bonus points if you make funny kissy faces at me.

Also, I’d really appreciate it if maybe the student nurses could stay away from my va-jay-jay.  It’s not that I don’t want to be their friend, I just don’t want to feel like I should be selling theme park tickets.  You understand, right?

I realize all births are different, and therefore all moms probably have their own brand of crazy coming in, so I had a few things I thought we should discuss (if you have a really short attention span, please skip to page 3):

-  Please ask me before you go doing anything up in my hoo-ha.  I have this weird reflex of kicking and wouldn’t want to kick your head.  So, if you’re wanting to do something like strip my membranes, make sure I’m cool with it.  Thanks in advance.

-  If my water breaks before labor, I want to wait a while before being induced.  Like, 12 hours.  I promise I won’t take a bath or sit in any mud puddles in between.

-  Since I’m basically going to be displaying my goods all over the place, I’d really like some mood music and lighting.  Barry Mantilow is cool and all but I’m kind of thinking more along the lines of oceans and such.  And, I don’t want to set your alarms off, so I guess I can pass on the candlelight, but do you think we could maybe dim the lights a little?  I’ll bring the music if you’ll dim the lights *wink wink*

-  Can I please have two hospital gowns?  I’m thinking I might want to get up and try some different positions and I realize I probably won’t care THEN, but come on.  Help a girl out.

-  Can you please just ignore me if you see me take a swig of water?  I realize I can’t have buckets, but this is some hard work.  Ice chips just lose their cool factor after a while.

-  I know I’ll have to have an IV or a port or something, but for the most part I think it might be cool to be able to move should I feel the need.  It’s highly probable that I won’t feel the need, but I like to keep my options open.

-  I’ve decided that I don’t want an epidural.  The problem is I might change my mind.  Don’t listen to me.  Even if I plead or tell you I’m dying.  I really don’t want one, so just tell me they’re out or that someone ran over the anesthesiologist.

-  Since I’m not having an epidural, I might do some really weird things.  You know, like moo or cross my eyes and zone out.  I might even hop up like Elvis, grab my crotch and sing, I’m really not sure.  I’ve been reading some really hippy/crunchy books and who knows which set of advice I take.  You are more than welcome to moo with me, by the way.  Or, just moo at me.  I’ll think you’re hilarious and will probably bring you cookies when I come back.

-  I’m thinking I’d really like a mirror.  You know, so I can apply my chapstick and then make sure I’m pushing right and stuff.  It helped last time.

-  As far as episiotomies go, no thanks.  Unless of course, it’s a medical emergency…but still, ask before you do it, okay?

-  If my husband leaves with a limp or a black eye, he most likely just ran into the door or something.  Just ignore it.  It’s cool.

-  After my baby is born, I’d really appreciate it if you could not whisk her away but could maybe do all of the suctioning and wiping down while she’s laying on me?  And then I want to breastfeed before all of the “routine” stuff starts getting underway.

-  My husband wants to cut the cord, but if he gets all pansy-like, that is up for grabs.  My mom will probably bare her teeth and nails if you don’t let her do it though.  Just sayin’.   I’d also really appreciate it if you could wait until the cord stops pulsing to cut it.

-  Speaking of pansy-ing out – If my husband should get all dramatic and go unconscious, just gently move him over with the toe of your shoe.  Try not to kick him, or anything but DOOD, this is my day.  He can get his own nurses, or wait his turn.

-  Once my baby is born, please hold off any of the crazy family members that somehow used their ESP powers to find out I was there.  I’d really like to bond with her and my husband and establish breastfeeding before we take on any visitors.  If you need to, you have my permission to send them to the neurosurgery or general surgery waiting rooms.  At least it’ll buy me a little bit of time – plus it’d be kind of funny (obviously moreso for me, not them).

-  Since I’m breastfeeding, can you please not give my baby any sort of pacifiers or artificial nipples or formula?  I know you probably wouldn’t, but I just wanted to be sure in case when you talk to me next I’m all mumbly and you can’t quite decipher what I just said.

-  I’d love to give my daughter her first bath, by the way.  I brought some baby stuff, so please let me know if you guys are down with that.

-  I’m okay with the Vitamin K shot, eye goo, and PKU prick, but can we do that after the initial breastfeeding, please?

To RECAP:

Things might get a little weird.  Mooing, Elvis crotch grabbing, and the like.  (Confused?  You should’ve read the whole thing.)

No episiotomies

Please wait until the cord stops pulsing before it’s cut

No students touching me

Please ask before you do anything that will affect me or my baby.  You can do whatever you want to my husband.

I plan to breastfeed, so please no formula, nipples other than my own (artificial or not), or pacifiers

I can’t be sure I’ve really accomplished much, seeing as how my lists just keep growing and growing. I would just throw half the list away if it weren’t for the I MUST DO THIS OR THE WHOLE WORLD WILL COLLAPSE ON ME AND EAT MY EYEBALLS type of feeling I get. Suddenly, very trivial and slightly non-related tasks such as making a few cloth napkins are indeed important enough to decide whether or not my life can go on. I mean, if I don’t make them, what in the bloody hell will everyone wipe their hands on? Dish towels? Paper towels? PSHAW! THOSE don’t match my dining room. So OBVIOUSLY, those won’t work. What’s wrong with you people?

Ahem.

I met with my wonderful doula (and friend) earlier this week for a scrumptious lunch as she went over the birth and the 40 bajillion questions that I’d scribbled on a notepad in my purse. You know, stuff like – “Can I call you when I get gas pains at 2 am?” and “Do you know tae kwon do?” and the such. You know, normal questions. I had prepared a birth plan and had it all typed out and such but now, I basically need to start all over because apparently one really can take the phrase, “Be as detailed as possible” a bit too literally. I think I’m going to save this plan for me, and then make a separate plan for the hospital. Hmm…maybe I should also make a list of phrases Steven is allowed (and not allowed) to use in my general direction (like, “Oh come on Ashley! It’s not THAT bad!”) – that way, when I punch him in the gut, he’ll totally have been warned.

Right now, my birth plan is basically a long list of DO IT AND DIE sort of things beginning at the start of labor (which I’m hoping will be at home) and ending after Aurora is born. But my doula (I call her this because I’m not sure I’m allowed to use her real name here, yet. I know being associated with me – because I’m such a big deal and all – may result in unwanted paparazzi harassment and such…) seems to think I should actually make the list a little shorter as to not confuse (and bore) the nursing staff. Which is a really good point. I guess they really don’t need to know everything on the current plan (like, who is to be called when and the pre-hospital part) – and I should probably add pictures. Just in case. I’ve heard that sometimes the staff likes to trump your wants and requests with things like …oh, routines. Maybe I’ll even make it all 3D and give them special 3-D glasses to wear! I should probably make it bigger than the average hospital trash can, too…you know, so it doesn’t get “lost.” Which, it won’t because I plan to print like 80 copies and tack them to every door as I crawl through the OB ward in labor.

So, basically, I’ll have two plans – one for those who will be attending the actual WHOLE thing (mom, Steven, and ….the mystery lady/doula/friend) and then one for the nurses. The first one probably will look much like it does, and the second one will possibly have cool graphics and 3-D glasses on posterboard…

It mostly all boils down to ….

My vagina is mine and please ask me before you do anything that could adversely affect it, or the child-thing which will soon appear. Mmkay?

………

And then, I’m also working on the LABOR and TAKE TO THE HOSPITAL list. Which, will be two different things – one is just for the labor, and the other is the random overnight sort of stuff.

LABOR BAG

• lavender, peppermint, chamomile, and a citrus essential oil. Because OBVIOUSLY the room will need to smell good and they’re supposed to make me feel all magical and stuff. Like liquid fairy dust or something.
• birth ball. In case I get bored and feel like exercising, or need something else to throw – or, of course…I could always sit on it to help with labor pains. Whatever.
• socks. I don’t think I’ll need these, but I’m not sure. I think maybe I did wear them last time, and I just can’t remember. I plan on buying some really crazy fantastic ones. I mean, if all else fails I can always focus on my socks during labor.
• chapstick. Screaming your lungs out has this drying effect on your lips (for Steven). So does breathing (for me).
• lotion.
• Ponytail holder. For impromptu rubber band type fights…or of course for my hair.
• the ice pack for my neck. It’s actually this little snake-y looking thing that you can make warm or cold and it goes around your neck. I bought it in the middle of the mall at some point for hiking and haven’t used it but what…once? And it wasn’t while hiking.
• the water pack for my back. It wraps around and is supposed to be good for back cramps. Who knows, it could be handy.
• Whole grain banana nut bread, bottled water, and strawberries. I guess once I hit 35 weeks, I’ll be making 2 batches of the sugar free, high protein, whole grain, fruit bread every week JUST IN CASE. I also plan to take this to the hospital because I have authority issues and don’t like people telling me when I can or can not eat or drink. ALTHOUGH I really doubt I’ll want to eat much by the time I get to the hospital, but water? – I’ll definitely want that. I BEGGED for it last time.
• Camera and batteries and extra card. Do I really need to explain this one?
• pillow. Mostly for the car. Just in case.
• pen and paper. I might feel like doodling in between contractions? No, really…because sometimes I need to write at the weirdest times. And, I may need to make my hit list…you never know. Anyways, I’m sure it’ll come in handy.
• Mints. For everyone but me, because I don’t have to smell my own breath.
• My cell phone. What if I feel like making prank calls while mooing?
• For the car only : a small bucket, a couple of towels, walmart bags, hand sanitizer, and a pair of gloves. I like to be prepared.  The hospital is 50 minutes away.

THE OVERNIGHT BAG

• Pillow? I usually deal pretty well with flat pillows as long as I can stack a couple, but mine will be in the vehicle just in case.
• boppy. I’m just following the crowd here, they say I’ll need it.
• Nursing bra.
• Nursing pads. In case there is leakage. You never know.
• laptop and charger. Because I’m an addict and who knows, I may want to check the weather or something.
• charger for cell phone
• card reader for camera card
• car seat. I’m pretty sure it’s kind of illegal to strap the baby to the luggage rack.
• baby hats. Because they’re oh so cute
• the baby’s entire wardrobe in both Preemie and NB sizes (b/c she may be tiny like L was) and because we’ll be playing dress up (which also helps to convince people that we’re still alive when I do nothing but sleep the following week and can manage to post photos of A in a different outfit each day)
• baby shampoo and body wash. and lotion. Because I like mine better (it has less chemicals)
• a couple of lightweight scrumptious baby blankets
• a couple of non scrunchy going home outfits for me – and flip flops. My feet were so swollen after L was born, I couldn’t even wear the sneakers I’d brought.
• toiletries, hairbrush, and makeup. I probably won’t wear the makeup, but who knows. Word may get out and hit the mainstream media that I’m having a baby and, you know…
• 2 pair of underwear. Only because I feel weird not packing it, though because we all know I won’t be wearing it.

Any other ideas for things I should bring? Go ahead, hit me. Or, even with things I shouldn’t bring (even if it’s not on my list). It doesn’t have to be practical, I mostly just want to read the things you guys will come up with!