My husband has decided that he's ready to skip to the end of this pregnancy. Well, I am too, but we have several weeks left as well as 12 weeks of Fridays down the drain at Bradley Classes (important, but we realized we have 5 more dance classes which are offered only on Fridays). Anyway, as much as he's done with me being pregnant, I'm, by far, more ready to pop this kid out than he is. Seriously, I'm having a hard time putting on my shoes. Not cool.
Okay, you may wonder because every pregnant woman reaches the point when they're done, what does this have to do with this post since I've already posted about how we're both done with me being pregnant? Well, I had a weird moment this morning: I forgot that I was pregnant. Yep, you read that right.
I was driving to work and started driving like non-pregnant me (read fast and having fun with the turns). It was so fun to drive like it was just me in the car, no Wombat sitting in my uterus making me drive the speed limit. Granted, it's not like I was driving 65 in a 35 because I just don't drive like that, but it was fun to feel like my body was my own again. No watching every step I take. No constantly driving the speed limit. No worrying about every little thing I do.
Then reality: I'm pregnant. I do have to watch my steps so as I don't trip. Speeding and having fun driving to work. I do have to worry about everything I eat, drink, wear, what I clean the bathroom with, make sure to walk every hour, back to watching everything because it effects Wombat.
Yes, I know this is part of pregnancy. It's just hard because I want my body back. I want my freedom.
Have you ever had a lapse where you forget something it seems like you just shouldn't be able to forget about?
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Week 21ish Check-Up
Wombat, my husband, and I all went to the regular doctor Friday. Wombat was scanned, photographed, and recorded on video. We never had a video of Moose, so it was really cool that we received a DVD after the ultrasound tech was done. It also marked the first time that Wombat didn't want to move into the perfect positions; I actually had to lay on my side at one point.
As far as the actual appointment, everything went well. Wombat's heart rate was 150 beats per minute, so that looks like a boy according to that Old Wives' Tale. However, the Chinese gender chart shows a girl, so who knows. I'm still unsure, but I did have a little dream while watching the Paris-Nice cycling race the other day. (Yes, my husband and I love cycling. No football in this house.)
In this dream, I heard Bob Roll talk about our son being in the Tour de France. It was so totally awesome. I mean, our kids don't have to actually be bike riders, but having a dream about our son being in the Tour was pretty freaking awesome. And hearing Bob Roll talk to Phil Liggett about our son was, well, awesome.
But I still have no idea what gender our baby is. My husband thinks we're having a girl, my sister thinks we're having a girl, his family thinks we're having a girl, and I'm completely unsure. Isn't the mother supposed to have some kind of feeling?
So to sum it up: everything looks good, but I still have no idea the gender of our baby unlike everyone else. I'm also getting weaker and wanting to find out Wombat's gender. Help me stay Team Green.
As far as the actual appointment, everything went well. Wombat's heart rate was 150 beats per minute, so that looks like a boy according to that Old Wives' Tale. However, the Chinese gender chart shows a girl, so who knows. I'm still unsure, but I did have a little dream while watching the Paris-Nice cycling race the other day. (Yes, my husband and I love cycling. No football in this house.)
In this dream, I heard Bob Roll talk about our son being in the Tour de France. It was so totally awesome. I mean, our kids don't have to actually be bike riders, but having a dream about our son being in the Tour was pretty freaking awesome. And hearing Bob Roll talk to Phil Liggett about our son was, well, awesome.
But I still have no idea what gender our baby is. My husband thinks we're having a girl, my sister thinks we're having a girl, his family thinks we're having a girl, and I'm completely unsure. Isn't the mother supposed to have some kind of feeling?
So to sum it up: everything looks good, but I still have no idea the gender of our baby unlike everyone else. I'm also getting weaker and wanting to find out Wombat's gender. Help me stay Team Green.
That's a Good Sign
Recently I've noticed how many people tell me "_____ is a good sign."
Here's an example:
Me: Wombat keeps kicking me in the bladder.
Person: Well, that's a good sign.
How is that a good sign? I mean babies move in the womb; they kick and punch things. It's obvious that a lot of babies will kick their mom in the bladder; however, I've never read anything which states that kicking the bladder is a good sign.
It goes with being sick during the first trimester too. That's a good sign too. Surprising because I was very sick with Moose. Every day. Multiple times a day. During the whole pregnancy. People told me that was a good sign too, but it wasn't.
Let's just face it. This saying should be thrown to the side along with all the other crazy things pregnant women hear. In case you need a list, here are a couple ideas at what not to say:
1. You look like you're about to pop. When are you due?
2. Are you having twins? You're huge.
3. ____ is a good sign.
4. Aren't you worried about ______?
There's more, feel free to add them in the comments.
On a side note, I was informed by my lovely husband this morning that I'll have more gas since I'm in month 5. My response: "I'm so glad I have an office to myself." I'm already feeling like a giant, stinky, gas bubble and I don't know if I can take more.
Here's an example:
Me: Wombat keeps kicking me in the bladder.
Person: Well, that's a good sign.
How is that a good sign? I mean babies move in the womb; they kick and punch things. It's obvious that a lot of babies will kick their mom in the bladder; however, I've never read anything which states that kicking the bladder is a good sign.
It goes with being sick during the first trimester too. That's a good sign too. Surprising because I was very sick with Moose. Every day. Multiple times a day. During the whole pregnancy. People told me that was a good sign too, but it wasn't.
Let's just face it. This saying should be thrown to the side along with all the other crazy things pregnant women hear. In case you need a list, here are a couple ideas at what not to say:
1. You look like you're about to pop. When are you due?
2. Are you having twins? You're huge.
3. ____ is a good sign.
4. Aren't you worried about ______?
There's more, feel free to add them in the comments.
On a side note, I was informed by my lovely husband this morning that I'll have more gas since I'm in month 5. My response: "I'm so glad I have an office to myself." I'm already feeling like a giant, stinky, gas bubble and I don't know if I can take more.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sorry
Just want to say sorry I haven't posted much lately. I've been having a mini freak out about my pregnancy. No, I don't think it's over, but I'll try to write more about it.
Mothers who Miscarry/Deliver a Stillborn Baby Get the Death Penatly
Yeah, that's the law being proposed in Georgia. Reading about it made my heart beat, my blood boil, and brought me to tears. I'm sure there's lots out there to read, but honestly, I can't read anymore. The things I read were enough. If you'd like to read more, just type it into Google and find a site you find reputable.
As a mother who lost her baby for unknown reasons, I'm just astounded that anyone would dare to propose this, especially someone who is an elected official in America. The way the bill is written, it means that any woman who suffers a pregnancy loss must prove that she had nothing to do with her baby's death.
Yes, it's meant to overturn Roe v. Wade, but I'm not talking about abortion. I'm talking about mothers who wanted their being tried as criminals due to nature. No, it doesn't sound logical, but that doesn't matter. It matters that someone wants it enacted. Can you wrap your head around that? I mean, really put that in your head and process it.
Yeah, if this passes, it means that, in addition to the pain of never going home with her baby, a woman must somehow prove she did nothing to harm her baby. With all the "you can have this, but not that. Oh wait a minute, this week, you can have that, but not this," out there, it seems the chance of a pregnant woman accidentally doing something which may be seen as harmful very easy. Did she take a small swallow of coffee after she found out? Death! Did she not read the label close enough on that unpasteurized cheese? Death! Did she forget her prenatals that one day because she couldn't stop throwing up? Death!
Yeah, maybe I'm taking it a little far, but I'm hurt and protective. Don't attack my Angel Moms! We are bound together in a realm of sisterhood. Plus, how could I ever prove I did nothing to harm my baby when no cause was ever found? Does that automatically mean this man wants me tried for murder? Doesn't he know that I already have a life sentence? There's no worse punishment than that.
As a mother who lost her baby for unknown reasons, I'm just astounded that anyone would dare to propose this, especially someone who is an elected official in America. The way the bill is written, it means that any woman who suffers a pregnancy loss must prove that she had nothing to do with her baby's death.
Yes, it's meant to overturn Roe v. Wade, but I'm not talking about abortion. I'm talking about mothers who wanted their being tried as criminals due to nature. No, it doesn't sound logical, but that doesn't matter. It matters that someone wants it enacted. Can you wrap your head around that? I mean, really put that in your head and process it.
Yeah, if this passes, it means that, in addition to the pain of never going home with her baby, a woman must somehow prove she did nothing to harm her baby. With all the "you can have this, but not that. Oh wait a minute, this week, you can have that, but not this," out there, it seems the chance of a pregnant woman accidentally doing something which may be seen as harmful very easy. Did she take a small swallow of coffee after she found out? Death! Did she not read the label close enough on that unpasteurized cheese? Death! Did she forget her prenatals that one day because she couldn't stop throwing up? Death!
Yeah, maybe I'm taking it a little far, but I'm hurt and protective. Don't attack my Angel Moms! We are bound together in a realm of sisterhood. Plus, how could I ever prove I did nothing to harm my baby when no cause was ever found? Does that automatically mean this man wants me tried for murder? Doesn't he know that I already have a life sentence? There's no worse punishment than that.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Week 17
Right now is halfway to when I lost Moose. I'm freaking out. Really freaking out, like all the time. Sitting here, I'm pratcially in tears because I'm so scared. How am I going to make it through all of this. I mean I'm month 4. It's Febraury. I'm due at the end of July. I have so long to go.
Wombat, could you just punch, kick, or whatever REALLY hard just to let me know you're fine? I just need to feel you. I need something that's unmistakably you, not just a swish. I need a Mike Tyson punch, please.
It's a good thing I go to the doctor on the 21st. I couldn't wait until the 8th.
I guess it doesn't help that I read about a healthy baby being born at week 33. That's always a kick to my heart. However, her doctor suspected something was up and was monitoring her closer than I was monitored with Moose, but still. It hurts. But I can't live in "what if..." Life isn't "what if..." Life is what's happened and there's no turning back and changing it. Life is living without Moose and hoping Wombat makes it all the way through.
Every pregnant woman freaks about her pregnancy. Every woman wonders if everything is progressing properly. It's harder though when that unknown is a reality. Something constantly watching and waiting, tourmenting.
Yes, I'm also being a hormonal, pregnant woman. I may have cried over prenatals last night. Anyway, pregnancy hormones and loss do not go well together.
For those of you who are pregnant, what are your fears? We all have them because I see them on the Bee all the time.
Wombat, could you just punch, kick, or whatever REALLY hard just to let me know you're fine? I just need to feel you. I need something that's unmistakably you, not just a swish. I need a Mike Tyson punch, please.
It's a good thing I go to the doctor on the 21st. I couldn't wait until the 8th.
I guess it doesn't help that I read about a healthy baby being born at week 33. That's always a kick to my heart. However, her doctor suspected something was up and was monitoring her closer than I was monitored with Moose, but still. It hurts. But I can't live in "what if..." Life isn't "what if..." Life is what's happened and there's no turning back and changing it. Life is living without Moose and hoping Wombat makes it all the way through.
Every pregnant woman freaks about her pregnancy. Every woman wonders if everything is progressing properly. It's harder though when that unknown is a reality. Something constantly watching and waiting, tourmenting.
Yes, I'm also being a hormonal, pregnant woman. I may have cried over prenatals last night. Anyway, pregnancy hormones and loss do not go well together.
For those of you who are pregnant, what are your fears? We all have them because I see them on the Bee all the time.
Friday, February 11, 2011
I Want a Bradley Birth
I'm pretty sure that I've said repeatedly that I want a Bradley Birth; it's important to us. Us as in my husband (Let's call him George because I love that name) and I. But many people don't know what that is or think that the birth process needs to be something they think about. I didn't realize this either until I cried thinking about an epidural and giving birth to a watermelon aka Moose. So I did what all good Enlgish Majors do: read (yeah, I'm a horrible speller and okay at grammar, but I do have a degree in English. It's my literary interpritation skillz which got me the degree.)
I read The Business of Being Born about different births and then I read some more. After reading and talking with "George," we decided that the best choice for us was Bradley. It's not right for everyone and I firmly believe that everyone should do what is right for the mother and partner. I am not one of those "oh, you didn't have a natural birth so you're a horrible mother," people.
Every situation is different and should be discussed with a doctor.
Anyway, back to me. Once we decided on Bradley, we immediately started classes. By this time, it was pretty late in my pregnancy, so we needed to get on the ball. We'd go every Saturday, bond with our other students and with each other, bicker over being late, and dread doing homework (nothing that bad, just reading and worksheets). Through all this, we learned what to expect. What my body would go through, how to handle it, and how "George" could help me get through it. We did this for several weeks until I started having what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions on Friday. They weren't.
Skipping ahead...
We went to our room at the maternity ward/birthing center and "George" coached me through each contraction. "You're going to have one soon. Okay, just 15 more seconds (until it ebbs), you're halfway through, now it's starting to ebb and it's done" He set up music; The Cure because they're awesome and meloncholy.
He coached me through each contraction because we knew what to expect. It wasn't unknown. It was "this is what we trained for," and "this is what we know." It was good to have something known because we were in the unknown. It was good to have him there at every step telling me what was going to happen, when it was happening, for how much longer.
My #1 tip for labor is go to the bathroom when you need to go. There is nothing worse than you're body trying to push everything out of you and you not listening. I mean, if you want to poop on the table before you deliver, don't go to the bathroom. Otherwise, just go to the bathroom. It makes everything so much easier. And if you want your partner to go with you, it's the least they could do. I totally made "George" come with me.
Anyway, I labored in the tub. Just laid in that tub with warm water. Contractions were easy there. I was warm. Still "George" counted and coached.
People may say I did the hard work, but "George" sat beside me, putting his pain to the side, and took care of me. I had a distraction; he just had me and I could do nothing. He was my advocate. He was my voice. He did everything. Just like he was trained. Just like he wanted to do.
As we were trained, about 20 minutes before I went into active labor, I wanted drugs. I was adament about drugs. I thought they'd give me something to send me to Jupiter for my mental anguish. They didn't. They gave me crap. It wasn't worth it at all. I still hurt and felt everything.
Then I delivered a Moose. For the first time in 34 weeks, my body was all mine. No little Moose parasite. Just me. Yeah, the delivery went really quickly. (I did my Bradley exercises like I was told which helped me push that baby out in less than an hour)
Anyway, all that coaching from "George" made the difference. All his training with Bradley made it his second nature. It brought us closer. It made us a team like never before. I think our team would be just as strong if we had Moose, but we didn't. And since we didn't, it made it easier for us to talk about our pain. To tell the other everything. It's still that way. We tell each other everything. We're open to each other, even the crazy things that we'd never tell anyone else and never thought we'd tell anyone.
Taking Bradley Classes gave us the tools we needed to get through the labor and delivery. It made it possible to live through our loss.
Ironic thing about the day I delivered: our Bradley Class was taking the Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and SIDs class as I was delivering.
I've already signed up for Bradley Classes for Wombat's birth since we never finished the classes for Moose's. After Wombat's birth, I am really hoping to become a Bradley Instructor. They need some Angel Moms in that organization because they have no idea about Angel Moms. They, like so many, don't know, but need to know since they are teaching birthing.
Any other questions? Here's a link to their FAQs or feel free to ask me.
I read The Business of Being Born about different births and then I read some more. After reading and talking with "George," we decided that the best choice for us was Bradley. It's not right for everyone and I firmly believe that everyone should do what is right for the mother and partner. I am not one of those "oh, you didn't have a natural birth so you're a horrible mother," people.
Every situation is different and should be discussed with a doctor.
Anyway, back to me. Once we decided on Bradley, we immediately started classes. By this time, it was pretty late in my pregnancy, so we needed to get on the ball. We'd go every Saturday, bond with our other students and with each other, bicker over being late, and dread doing homework (nothing that bad, just reading and worksheets). Through all this, we learned what to expect. What my body would go through, how to handle it, and how "George" could help me get through it. We did this for several weeks until I started having what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions on Friday. They weren't.
Skipping ahead...
We went to our room at the maternity ward/birthing center and "George" coached me through each contraction. "You're going to have one soon. Okay, just 15 more seconds (until it ebbs), you're halfway through, now it's starting to ebb and it's done" He set up music; The Cure because they're awesome and meloncholy.
He coached me through each contraction because we knew what to expect. It wasn't unknown. It was "this is what we trained for," and "this is what we know." It was good to have something known because we were in the unknown. It was good to have him there at every step telling me what was going to happen, when it was happening, for how much longer.
My #1 tip for labor is go to the bathroom when you need to go. There is nothing worse than you're body trying to push everything out of you and you not listening. I mean, if you want to poop on the table before you deliver, don't go to the bathroom. Otherwise, just go to the bathroom. It makes everything so much easier. And if you want your partner to go with you, it's the least they could do. I totally made "George" come with me.
Anyway, I labored in the tub. Just laid in that tub with warm water. Contractions were easy there. I was warm. Still "George" counted and coached.
People may say I did the hard work, but "George" sat beside me, putting his pain to the side, and took care of me. I had a distraction; he just had me and I could do nothing. He was my advocate. He was my voice. He did everything. Just like he was trained. Just like he wanted to do.
As we were trained, about 20 minutes before I went into active labor, I wanted drugs. I was adament about drugs. I thought they'd give me something to send me to Jupiter for my mental anguish. They didn't. They gave me crap. It wasn't worth it at all. I still hurt and felt everything.
Then I delivered a Moose. For the first time in 34 weeks, my body was all mine. No little Moose parasite. Just me. Yeah, the delivery went really quickly. (I did my Bradley exercises like I was told which helped me push that baby out in less than an hour)
Anyway, all that coaching from "George" made the difference. All his training with Bradley made it his second nature. It brought us closer. It made us a team like never before. I think our team would be just as strong if we had Moose, but we didn't. And since we didn't, it made it easier for us to talk about our pain. To tell the other everything. It's still that way. We tell each other everything. We're open to each other, even the crazy things that we'd never tell anyone else and never thought we'd tell anyone.
Taking Bradley Classes gave us the tools we needed to get through the labor and delivery. It made it possible to live through our loss.
Ironic thing about the day I delivered: our Bradley Class was taking the Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and SIDs class as I was delivering.
I've already signed up for Bradley Classes for Wombat's birth since we never finished the classes for Moose's. After Wombat's birth, I am really hoping to become a Bradley Instructor. They need some Angel Moms in that organization because they have no idea about Angel Moms. They, like so many, don't know, but need to know since they are teaching birthing.
Any other questions? Here's a link to their FAQs or feel free to ask me.
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