19 months

Worst mommy ever hasn't recorded a single stat about her kid... until NOW!

19 month check up: 34" tall, 28 lb 9 oz, and uh.... he has a big head, but I don't remember the actual measurement. Doh. Oh well.

I happened to dress B in his MOST stained onesie yesterday. Hey, it was laundry day, what do you want? I may or may not have put him in his Halloween costume the day before... Anywho, it didn't matter, right? Because it was under his clothes and who was going to see it anyway. Right?? Oh, except when I take him to the doctor and she has me strip him down but says it's ok to leave his onesie on. :\ And his shins are all bruised up from his need to climb EVERYTHING (and his current lack of finesse in doing so). And apparently he bonked his eye like 5 minutes before I picked him up for the appointment, so *that* began to swell a smidge during the doctor's visit. And ALSO the nanny decided to let the boys play in the mud yesterday (which would normally be awesome-sauce, but...) So there's my kid standing in front of the doctor: dirty, in VERY stained clothing, freshly bruised, and crying (because, have I mentioned, he suddenly has an aversion to being pants-less??) I saw the doctor eying him and could tell she was considering calling CPS for a brief minute. I wanted to scream out "I love my son!! I swear he doesn't normally look like a vagrant who's been in a bar fight. I don't know why he's crying about the pants, but normally, I PROMISE he's well adjusted and loved and PLEASEDON'TCALLCPS!!"... I thought about it for a minute, but decided an outburst like that would only hurt my case. So instead I washed B's hands (look sweetie! A sink! With SOAP! Let's go check it out!), re-pants him as quickly as possible, pulled him onto my lap, and smothered his giant head in kisses.

Beginning Of The End?

Yesterday morning - B's 18 month birthday* - B nursed and half way through stopped, said "no" and rolled away and went off to play. Today, he didn't nurse at all. So is this the beginning of the end of our nursing relationship? 18 months feels "about right" for us so I suppose I'm ok with it if it is, in fact, the beginning of the end. But still, sigh. It has been such a sweet, wonderful, thing. I will miss it.

*Holy Crap! Eighteen Months!!?!? How did that happen?

Yum...

So guess what I found under my couch last night... a sippy cup filled with milk. From a week (or so??) ago. So, technically, it wasn't really milk anymore. It was more like a strange congealed substance that I would classify as being half way between a failed science project and really fancy cheese. Delicious. I have no idea how it got there* but the stench that accompanied its disposal was enough to knock me on my butt.

*This is a lie. Upon further brain racking I remember EXACTLY how it got there. Barrett was doing his "I'm done with dinner now!!! Time to wildly throw everything off my tray!!!" thing. (Precious, no?) He's like one of those tennis ball launching machines except he throws food and utensils and sippy cups. And sometimes some of those projectiles end up under my couch and I don't immediately retrieve them because I'm busy wiping spaghetti off my face... and often off the cats. (Have I mentioned lately how much the cats LOOOVE Barrett?) But I distinctly remember seeing this particular sippy cup fly through the air and roll under the couch. And I remember thinking, "Oh man, I REALLY need to remember to pick that up before it dies a horrible death under there." And then I promptly forgot all about it. :\ Man, I am SO GOOD at this parenting business.

Well, It Was Bound To Happen Sooner Or Later

Barrett and I have a morning routine. It's good to have a routine. Following a routine helps with the auto-pilot I so often have to run on because motherhood = chronic sleep deprivation. So anyway, our routine. Our routine is I pick up my purse, my lunch, B's day bag and whatever else I need to schlep that day. I get them all balanced on my body and then I pick up B. Then I walk, loaded down with 40+ lb, to my car, which is often parked a block or two away. Upon arriving at the car, I open the back door and put B down on the back seat so he can scramble into his car seat. (I used to try to actually PUT him in the car seat, but that led to much yelling and flailing of arms and gnashing of teeth... and B didn't much care for it either. So we worked out a deal: I allow him to get into the car seat on his own and he makes sure the screaming is kept to a minimum. It's a good deal.) While B scrambles, I unload all my crap into the front seat. One time B scrambled right out of the car and tried to run down the street, so now I close the back door after dropping him off in there.

So anyway the process is basically this:
1. Unlock car
2. Open back door
3. Place baby inside car
4. Close back door
5. Open front door
6. Place crap inside car
7. Close front door
8. Re-open back door and buckle baby in his seat
9. Get on with rest of day

Unfortunately today we hit a small snag somewhere after step 7...

B has recently developed a love affair with mommy's keys. If he sees them, he NEEEEEEEDS them. Like "RightThisSecondOhMyGoodnessIfIDon'tGetThemNOWLifeAsIKnowItWillEnd!!!" :\ When it comes to parenthood, I'm a big fan of choosing my battles . I'll lay down the law when he gives me the "Mommy I NEED to stick my fingers in this electrical outlet" whine, or when he tries to climb on the kitchen counters to reach the knives, or when he's pretty sure his pacifier would taste better if I would JUST let him dunk it in the toilet. So, having fought all those battles already today, when he grasped desperately for my keys as I placed him in the back seat this morning I thought, "Fine. Take them. Have a ball."

With my car keys in his happy little hands, B started scrambling into his car seat. Step 3: check. So I moved on to steps 4 through 7. Close back door, open front door, place crap, close front door... and then I heard it: *Click* ... the sound of my car doors locking in response to my son pushing the lock button on my key fob. Worst. Sound. Ever.

The window of time that my son had to push that lock button (between me closing the front door and reopening the back door) was exceedingly small. We're talking 2 seconds, max. But toddlers are exceedingly good at doing the wrong thing at EXACTLY the wrong time. It's a special gift they have.

So now my child, my keys, and all my stuff (including my purse) are locked in the car. And I'm standing outside like a moron waving my arms and tapping on the window trying to convince B to push one of the other buttons on the key fob he so desperately loves. Except now he's realized that he's alone in the car and suddenly the keys just aren't that interesting anymore. So he shakes them around and launches them into the front seat. And then he realizes that he's not strapped in yet... so he stands up in his car seat, and he jumps up and down in his car seat, and he climbs over the back of his car seat (which is still rear facing) and nose dives into the center console in the front seat. !!! I was certain he'd come up with a bloody nose... or at least crying. But no. He popped his head up with the biggest smile ever on his face. Apparently trapped in the car is AWESOME when you are 1 1/2. Weeeeee! dive into the back seat. Weeee!!! dive into the front seat... lovely.

So I'm on the phone with AAA, (THANK GOODNESS my phone was in my pocket and not in my purse!!!) and they're asking for my member number - which of course I don't have because it's LOCKED IN MY CAR ALONG WITH MY BABY!!!!! And the lady is making my spell my last name like 10 million times while I'm knocking on the windows trying to tell B to at least dive carefully between the front and back seats. I finally told her to just send someone, NOW! and so she put in a call to the fire department. Mind you the fire department is around the corner from my house. Had I yelled loudly enough, I probably could have put the call in myself. But whatever. So AAA called the fire department and I hung up the phone with them.

2 minutes later, a GIANT fire truck pulls up and no less than FIVE MEN jump out. (I cannot believe they drove their GIANT TRUCK literally a block and a half. The drive was so short they didn't even get a full cycle of their siren out. It was like :::ruuuuuuummm::: <--- start the engine... :::rrrrr::: <---- siren wind up.... "Alright we're here!!!" Oh well.)

So giant truck, 5 dudes, baby running a muck in the car, and me. Apparently I was their first call of the day (at 9:15 am?? What a bunch of slackers the folks in my city are!) so I got a rose. Neat!! Luckily I had my wits about me so I could snap some pics:

B discovers mommy's stuff on the front seat.


Awesome firemen attempt to jimmy open my car


My rose!



So the firemen try and try and but they cannot, for the life of them, get my door open. They hit the unlock button with their coat hanger thing-ee but nothing happens, they get their coat hanger thing-ee around the door handle and pull, but that just sets off the alarm... Apparently Toyota has spent a lot of time and effort making their cars un-break-in-able. Which normally would be a good thing... except when your baby is locked inside. :\

So I call AAA again and have them send a locksmith. He gets there about 15 minutes later. Meanwhile B continued to enjoy his unchecked rampage around my car.

Here he is eating my eyeliner.


Here he is pretending to drive. (Much better picture when I press the phone against the window)


At one point, B found a nickle in the car and we all thought FOR SURE he was going to eat it and the guys were going to have to break a window and rescue him from chocking. They even got the tape out (to keep the glass from shattering) and debated which window would be best to break. B put the nickle in his mouth and we were all like, "No no no no no no! Don't eat it! Don't eat the nickle!!!" and he smiled and took it out of his mouth and we all cheered! And then he put it back in his mouth and we all freaked out again... and then he took it back out and we all cheered. We must have looked so strange to folks walking by.

We also tried (in vain) to convince B to push the unlock button on the door. We succeeded in convincing him to push all the radio buttons and to jerk the turning indicator and windshield wiper levers wildly but apparently door buttons hold no allure for babies.

At another point, B found his beloved keys in the front seat and we tried to get him to hook the keys onto the glorified coat hanger (so we could pull them out of the car through the pried open door). But all he did was grab the coat hanger and try to eat it. 17 month olds, it turns out, are pretty worthless when it comes to breaking into (or I guess out of) cars.

So finally the locksmith shows up and he tries all the coat hanger tricks without luck. I resign myself to the fact that my baby will be locked in my car forever.




Just then, the locksmith tries the "double door handle pull" trick. Which is to say, use the coat hanger to pull on the door handle, the car alarm sounds... then, pull the door handle AGAIN (within in 3 seconds.... which p.s. is NOT easy to do with a coat hanger!) VIOLA!!!! The door opened.

Oh thank goodness!!!!!!!

The whole ordeal took over an hour. But we all survived. And B didn't panic or complain once. He rules. I thanked everyone about a million times. (I considered hugging them, but 6 people is a lot of people to hug and I was afraid it would be awkward...) Then I belted B in and proceeded to step 9: Get on with rest of day.

The End.


(And yes, I know his shoulder strap is all wonky here... don't worry, I fixed it before driving off.)

Pregnancy Journal

Hey look what I found: my pregnancy journal!! Nothing fancy, just a few thoughts I jotted down while B was in my belly. :) Warm fuzzies. Copied and Pasted here for posterity.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I cried. Big sobbing tears. For no good reason, really... because, I mean, it's not like it was an accident. In fact, it was very deliberately NOT an accident. I knew when I was ovulating almost down to the hour. No no, THIS was intentional. It was something that I had dreamed about since I was a little girl playing house with my dollies. And something that Kyle and I had talked at lengths about since pretty much the start of our relationship. It was something I wanted so badly that I could almost taste it. But then I saw the word "pregnant" on that damn little stick and I gasped in disbelief, shouted No!!!!!!! and then I cried. A lot. I think the tears were a result of, in addition to the idea of bringing a LIFE into being - and WOW is that a heavy thought - the fact that I was so sure that I WASN'T pregnant... I think mostly it felt weird to be SO wrong about my own body. I was CERTAIN that I wasn't pregnant. I was even starting to feel relieved that I wasn't pregnant, grateful for the "practice" 2 week wait. I learned a lot in those two weeks, and messed up a few times, and NEXT month, when the whole pregnancy thing DID happen, well, I'd be MUCH better prepared for it. Except then I WAS pregnant. It wasn't "practice" at all... sounds of "this is not a drill!" echoed through my head. This was IT. The real thing. The real thing and I didn't even RECOGNIZE it. Gah. I felt, instantly, like a terrible mother. Ah, maternal guilt... and so it begins.

Weeks 4 and 5... I still don't feel pregnant... this is a bit disconcerting. :( Although my boobs do hurt like hell! And they've basically filled out to porn star proportions. Kyle is a fan.

Wednesday, 5 weeks, 6 days: As if on cue, the nausea started (just about 6 weeks along now). Blah. Seems a bowl of cereal at about 5 am is all that will save me.

Friday, 6 weeks, 1 day (based on Sept 9, due date): I feel sick. Caitlin mentioned that Brenda constantly ate crackers during her first trimester... I got a box of saltines today. Ahhh, sweet relief for my tummy. I wonder if healthy people ever just eat saltines for the heck of it... or are the saltine producers kept in business entirely by folks trying to avoid puking? Hmmm...
Wednesday, 6 weeks, 6 days: Kyle's dad made some comment today about me carrying his future grandchild... it was a small, nothing sort of comment, but it sorta made me feel like a human crockpot... like I'm some sort of vessel who's sole purpose is to slow cook this baby for 9 months. Ugh.

Friday, 7 weeks, 1 day: Still feeling crummy. I feel like I have the flu. Work is miserable. Ugh. Kyle's parents are in town and I want to do is sleep and eat cereal. I've basically been living on crackers for the past few days.
Saturday, 7 weeks, 2 days: Finally feel a bit better - had a steak quesadilla for breakfast and an Ike's sandwhich for dinner! Woo - hoo for real food!
Sunday, 7 weeks, 3 days: OMG I am SOOOO tired. Slept till 1:30 today. Wow. I feel like a cat.
Monday, 7 weeks, 2 days: Kyle is working late - I'm having apples and peanut butter for dinner. Yum.
Tuesday, 7 weeks, 5 days: Thought maybe the nausea was done... I was wrong. Had a bowl of cereal at 2:15 in the morning (I guess I should have eaten a bigger dinner last night!) Slept hard from 2:30 to 6 and then again from 6 to 8. Still no weight gain. I seem to be holding fast at 145 lb. Wow - there is going to come a time in my life when I *strive* to get back to 145 lb. Right now, in my head, 145 lb just sounds like I'm 10 lb too heavy. Sigh.

Friday, 8 weeks, 1 day: finished a HUGE project at work today! Maybe now I can relax a bit. My mom is coming into town tomorrow.
Sunday, 8 weeks, 3 days: My mom is in town and we've sat on the couch ALLLLLL weekend long editing her cookbook. Didn't feel queasy at all today! (Hooray!) I think baby likes me to sit still, not do too much, and certainly not stress. This baby doesn't know me very well.
Monday, 8 weeks, 4 days: Back to work - and back to feeling queasy/ill. Boooo. Mom is still in town - we're still working on her cookbook. This is a major project...

Monday, 9, weeks ?? days: HEARTBEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Kyle and I went to our first pre-natal appointment this morning and glory of glories we heard the heartbeat! It was only for a few seconds, but MAN, what an amazing sound. There's a little PERSON in there. And he/she has a HEARTBEAT!!! Woah. Dr. Green decided to give me credit for having a 26 day cycle. Woo-Hoo. Basically, I'm due 38 weeks after conception (which we think happened on Tuesday Dec 15) instead of just 40 weeks after my last visit from AF. She said this put my due date on Sept. 6 (although, by my calculations, 38 weeks after Dec 15 is Sept 7). Hmmmm, so if we go by standard 40 weeks, I'm due on Thursday, Sept 9, which makes me currently 9 weeks 4 days. If we go by conception + 38 weeks, I'm 9 weeks 6 days pregnant. If we go by a due date of Sept 6, I'm 10 weeks pregnant today. Gah! I think from now on, I'll assume a Sept 7... which means I'm 9 weeks 6 days. Yikes, where does the time go? Still feeling a bit queasy/exhausted, but it's gotten better... sort of.

Friday, 10 weeks 3 days: two blood tests in one week. Sheesh! Good thing I've gotten over my fear of needles. I seem to have given up on real pants all together this week. Spent the last three days in stretchy leggings under loose dresses. Ahhh comfort. Pregnancy bloat is not my friend right now.

Wednesday, 11 weeks, 1 day: I'm writing down my thoughts less often lately, it seems... maybe I'm getting used to this whole "being pregnant" thing. I've started spending my days on thebump.com - which, much like theknot.com, is bringing me much comfort in a time when I feel like I'm the ONLY person on earth going through something. The morning sickness is mostly gone now (except for the middle of the night) and the bloat has even passed a bit. I'm wearing regular old jeans today and I'm not dying! I still have nothing that even RESEMBLES a baby bump, but I'm hoping it will arrive soon. The hardest part these days is 1. getting out of bed in the morning and 2. Constantly making up excuses for why I can't do things like drink or snowboard or whatever. I am TOTALLY ready to tell the world about the little goober growing inside me. Next week, after our NT ultrasound I think I'm gonna tell people. Speaking of making up excuses: I had the weirdest dream last night: I dreamed that my co-worker noticed how big my boobs had gotten and asked me what was up - I had to think of a lie on the spot and so I told them that I had gotten a boob job!!! Gah! Like I said, I'm pretty ready to tell people. :)
Thursday, 11 weeks, 2 days: Being pg got me out of jury duty today!!! The trial was scheduled to last 6 weeks - and hello! with my OB appts coming up that just wouldn't have worked. I was a bit bummed to miss out on the process - I'm actually quite intrigued to serve on a jury - but a 6 week trial just wouldn't have worked for me right now. Sigh. I'm glad the judge understood. :)
Friday, 11 weeks, 3 days: We got our doppler fetal heartrate machine Tuesday night and darn it - I cannot find the baby's heartbeat with it to save my life! I know I'm a bit early (by 12 weeks the heartbeat is supposed to be easier to hear) but man it is FREAKING me out. I've tried 3 times now and I've heard diddly squat. Booooooooo. Little baby - I want to HEAR YOUR HEALTHY LITTLE HEART!!!!! Pleeasse!!!!! I cried for the first time today since finding out about the baby. Being pregnant is the biggest, most stressful thing I've ever done. EVERYTHING I do, eat, breath, etc. affects the baby. It's an amazingly heavy burden. And it's ALWAYS there. You can't just take a night off. You can't just not be pregnant for a little while while you gather your strength back up. I don't know how women do this everyday. I wish I could live on an island somewhere where I only eat organic food, and only breath perfectly fresh air, and I spend my days doing prenatal yoga and sleeping. I just want to wrap myself in a bubble so I don't accidentally mess this poor kid up. :(
Sunday, 11 weeks, 5 days: You're supposed to use GEL!!!???? Why didn't someone tell me that the doppler doesn't work without a significant amount of gel!!??? GAH! I've been driving myself INSANE all week for nothing. This morning, lying in bed, after I accidentally dumped (what I thought was) way to much goo on my belly, we found the heartbeat. Wow. Just for a few seconds. But it was definitely there. Baby has a heartbeat! Wow.

Thursday, 12 weeks, 2 days:I can't believe our grandmothers had to go 9 whole months in basically complete darkness about the health of their babies and now we have this magical little probe that looks more like a computer mouse than a medical device that can just SEE the baby it's crazy cool - we had our first ultrasound today and it was AMAZING. Two arms, two legs, a head, a heart - all right there on the screen, plain as day. I'm on cloud nine! :) Little baby, I love you so much!!!!!

Friday, 13 weeks, 3 days: Never before and likely never again will I say this: What is up with my flat tummy??? Where's my bump??? Gah. All of my friends on thebump are sporting adorable little baby bumps. Brand new little mounds of extra adorableness. I'm so jealous. I just want to pout in the corner. ::humph:: In other news - my nausea is just about completely gone and my appetite seems to mostly be back. I'm still eating pretty small meals, but at least salad and meat is back on the yummy list. :) Kyle and I have told several people now. I told A and L - which was pretty much the hardest thing I've ever had to do. With A, I felt terrible for getting pregnant so easily when she's having so much trouble. :( With L, I felt terrible for not sharing my news with her sooner. :( She is one of my best friends in the whole world and I couldn't even tell her. I was just so scared that I might "jinx" something by telling someone. I'm glad she knows now. Still haven't gotten a hold of Sara. Man! Our schedules are just opposite. Sucks. I may just have to text her the news... it's surprisingly difficult to tell people. On the one hand I want to shout it from the rooftops but on the other hand I'm just not completely ready to tell everyone yet... plus I'm enjoying telling people individually. Their reactions are each so unique. :)
Sunday, 13 weeks, 5 days: My ab muscles finally gave up - I'm showing!!!!!!! :) I've never been so excited to not fit into pants. It was truly like the muscles in my stomach just couldn't take it any longer. I noticed Friday night that my abs were sore - probably from holding in my belly. On Saturday I really tried to relax my abs and just let everything be where it wanted to be. And then today - I DEF see something. My whole lower abdomen looks swollen. Not quite a cute little pop out bump yet - but maybe this is just the shape my body has chosen to take. It's fine by me. :) There's a baby in there!!! And now all I want to wear is a dress. All day everyday.

Tuesday, 14 weeks, 0 days: What I want to know is why ALL pants don't have an elastic waistband??? Maternity jeans may not be especially flattering, but a girl could get use to the oh so comfy waistband! I feel like a little kid in jeans that bunch up in the back, but whatever. :)
Monday, 14 weeks, 6 days: Caitlin emailed me today and asked about planning my baby shower. This elicited two responses from me. 1. TERROR. Is this baby REALLY going to be here so soon that we need to start planning a baby shower already?????? Holy crap. Kyle and I are still SO unprepared. And 2. Sadness. Caitlin asked where the shower should be and it just reinforced to me the notion that we have NO family in the area. :( Ideally the shower would be at my mom's house, or an aunt's house, or something... but I've got no one. :( I suddenly feel very alone.

Tuesday, 15 weeks, 0 days: Dear elastic waist band, I heart you. Love always, me

Friday, 16 weeks, 3 days: OMG the pregnancy is starting to fly by! Made the appointment yesterday for the "Big" ultrasound - where we'll find out the gender of this little fishy living in my belly. :) We've told just about everyone we wanted to tell now. (Man - telling people is HARD! It's just such an awkward thing to bring up... "Lovely weather we're having, oh by the way I'm pregnant!" I've had to resort to text messages, IMs, and throwing it in as a sort of p.s. as Kyle and I leave a group of people at the end of the night. Ugh.) Heading down to LA this weekend for Dana's wedding - she wanted a pic with me and my belly - but it looks like my belly will mostly disappoint. It's there - but it's small. Not exactly photo worthy. Sigh. Oh well. I definitely feel like I'm going through a bit of a growth spurt right now though. My belly has been sort of sore yesterday and today. I'm wearing yoga pants to work today. It's nice. :) Also - Kyle has started talking to my belly. It's the cutest, sweetest thing I've ever experienced. He even introduced himself to the baby. "Hi baby! I'm your dad! Nice to meet you" :) Too cute.

Thursday, 17 weeks, 2 days: Woah! I've gained 7 lbs!!! No belly to speak of yet... and although my boobs are bigger, they're not 7 pounds bigger! I think the baby might be made of lead.
Friday, 17 weeks, 3 days: Ugh, just when I think I'm totally about to pop.... nothing. My belly looks exactly the same. *pout*. And I still haven't felt the little fishy swim around yet. :( I don't feel pregnant AT ALL. I could totally be one of those "I didn't know I was pregnant" girls. :(

Tuesday, 18 weeks, 0 days: Today, during one of the zillion and one different way I've tried to feel the baby move, I poked my stomach in an attempt to get the baby to poke back. (Girls on thebump swear it works!) Instead of getting poked back, I farted. Sigh. :\
Wednesday, 18 weeks, 1 day: OMG - Baby is due in exactly 5 months!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, 18 weeks, 3 days: I think I'm becoming addicted to ebay as I desperately try to win a cute maternity dress to wear to foxfield in a couple weeks. The funny thing is, I probably don't even NEED a maternity dress at this stage... I just want one so bad. I wonder how many other useless things I'll buy as a direct result of this darn kid. (she wonders as she combs ebay for a BabyPlus... which is basically an inutero sound system for baby... a TOTALLY necessary purchase!)
Saturday, 18 weeks, 4 days: Kyle says to me today, "Omg, you TOTALLY look pregnant today"... and you know what? I think he's right!!! When I look down all I see is this MOUND where my stomach used to be. I think I have an officially baby bump!!! I've popped!!!! I should probably start telling my co-workers about the baby...
Sunday, 18 weeks, 5 days: No "flutters" yet... but I *think* I maybe felt the baby rolling around today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was sort of a pit of my stomach, weird feeling. Sort of like space was moving around in my belly or like a cue ball was being rolled slowly from one side to the other and leaving a really weird feeling in it's wake. WEIRD! Is this it??????? Baby!!!??? Is that you?? Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Wednesday, 19 weeks, 1 day: Most mornings I wake up and STILL cannot believe I'm pregnant. That I am growing a human being inside of me. That I will be a PARENT! A MOTHER! Forever!!!! In just 5 short months. How did this happen? What on earth were we thinking???
Thursday, 19 weeks, 2 days: Met with Dr Green today - I think I need to find a new OB. Not only did she discourage me from hiring a doula (lame) - but I'm starting to feel more and more like she's very pro medical intervention when it come to L&D. And I am not. The child-birthing class brochure she gave me basically fell perfectly in line with every evil hospital stereotype portrayed in "The Business of Being Born." It was so scary I wanted to cry. There was a whole portion called "Cesarean Section - the other way to give birth"... it was like they were trying to sell it like it was "the other white meat". Yikes! So yeah - I think I need to find a new doc... and hospital. Stat.
Friday, 19 weeks, 3 days: I think I maybe MAYBE felt two little taps today!!!! Or it could have been gas. But it felt stronger than gas. I think. I was leaning forward and my pants pressed against my belly and I felt a little flick flick. But then it was gone. Man - this is driving me nuts! Apparently I have an anterior placenta which means I won't feel much of anything till baby is bigger and stronger. Booooo.
Monday, 19 weeks, 6 days: Holy Freakin Crap! We're Team......... BLUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TEAM BLUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My baby is a boy! I'm going to have a SON. Just typing it is the craziest, weirdest, most aweseomest thing on the planet. I'm literally shaking with disbelief! Not because I can't believe it's a boy (although, I was starting to think girl...) but because I can't believe it's an anything! It's a real person with a gender and everything now. SO surreal. GAH!!!!!! TEAM BLUE!!!!!! Someone pinch me! :) :) :)

Friday, 20 weeks, 3 days: Not sure it counts as a bond fide "craving", but I think I may be developing an addiction to ice cream... yum!
Saturday, 20 weeks, 4 days: Spent the day on my feet at Foxfield in VA with friends. All the standing seems to have made baby explode... I'm HUGE!!! It looks like I have a tumor or something growing on my stomach. Crap where did all this baby come from!? I'm seriously freaking out!
Sunday, 20 weeks, 5 day: Whew. Baby bump is back down to a manageable size. Ha ha... first it's too little baby bump, then it's too much baby bump. Can't it be "just right" for a while?

Thursday, 21 weeks, 2 days: Still not much in the way of kicks (stupid anterior placenta!!!) but I did feel one MAJOR kick today in the middle of a meeting at work. Made me jolt upright it was so strong! YAY! More please!!!
Sunday, 21 weeks, 5 days: My belly button is starting to do weird things... I've always had sort of an "innie-outie"... sort of like a little mountain at the bottom of a deep moat... well now the moat is still there, but it's as if the mountain is surfacing and the moat is getting shallower. Very strange! Moat depth varies throughout the day, but each time my belly button "surfaces" it seems to hang out there a bit longer. Pretty soon it'll probably just be a mountain all the time. Weird!!!! Also - it's SUPER soft (who'd have thunk??) and pretty sensitive.
Monday, 21 weeks, 6 days: Sometimes I wish babies just came pre-named... like cabbage patch kids! This whole select a name that my son will have to live with for the rest of his life thing is next to impossible... sigh.

Wednesday, 22 weeks, 1 day: 2 Milestones today. 1. I officially look pregnant with a SWEATSHIRT! on. Gah!!!!! And 2. KYLE FELT THE BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :) :) :) During dinner, baby was being a bit feisty - and Kyle put his hand on my belly and sure enough, he felt a kick! :) So so cool.
Monday, 22 weeks, 6 days: The story of my belly button... first it was a mountain at the bottom of a well, then it was a mountain surrounded by a moat, now, slowly but surely, the moat is spilling over. At the lower edge of my belly button is moat is basically gone. Yikes! Good thing I'm not actually relying on it to keep would be intruders away!

Friday, 23 weeks, 3 days: Baby is getting stronger!! Today, during a meeting at work, I felt an especially strong kick. After, I stared at my tummy for a bit and then, not only did I FEEL another strong kick, but I SAW IT!! A little whump shot up and my belly popped out in response. :) Yay!

Thursday, 24 weeks, 2 day: Twenty four weeks and change. Baby is officially (potentially) viable outside the womb. Mind blowing. In other news, my nipples hurt. A lot.
Friday, 24 weeks, 3 days: I think baby likes to be touched! Kyle felt two big kicks last night when he put his hand on my tummy after we went to bed! :) It's so crazy feeling. Most of the time I feel like *I'm* growing a thing that will someday be a child. But when I get kicked I'm reminded that I'm basically just a house for this little person who and just happens to be living inside me. HE'S the one doing all the growing! I'm just along for the ride.

Monday, 25 weeks, 6 days: We FINALLY did something in the nursery!!!!!!!!!!! Yay!! I'm so excited. Kels and Kyle put up the wallpaper border. It's finally starting to look like a baby boy's room. :) So happy. In other news - if I didn't know better, I would think I was back in my 1st Trimester! Blech. I have been SO queasy ALLLLL day. Nothing sounds appetizing and when I do eat, my entire belly fills with the most painful gas ever. :( Yuck.

Wednesday, 26 weeks, 1 day: Finally found some food that doesn't make me want to hurl - baked chicken and plain rice pilaf. Thank goodness! I had it for dinner last night and for lunch today. It is SO nice to be able to eat something and not have my stomach fight back. I'm definitely feeling more pregnant these days. Gone are the mornings when I wake up and forget, for the first few minutes, that I'm carrying a child around in my belly. The baby is now a CONSTANT presence. He's heavy! And awkward feeling. I feel huge. And very pregnant. I'm super hot and sweaty and I groan when standing up or sitting down. Everything feels like it requires extra effort these days.

Wednesday, 29 weeks 1 day: Me = worst mommy ever. I haven't written in here in FOREVER. I've been busy, I've been sending baby related emails to friends and family, and I've been posting pics on facebook. Still. I feel bad for not taking a few minutes to jot my thoughts down here. :( Anyway... I'm feeling MUCH better now, thankyouverymuch. Which is good, because a few weeks ago it seems I had a calcium deposit in my ear and I suffered from vertigo off and on for 3 days. It was a nightmare! But that cleared up, and then Kyle and I went to Cape Cod for Andy and Casey's wedding, and I even got my big pregnant butt out on the dance floor and partied with the boys at the after party till 3 am. (Of course I paid dearly for it afterward by being exhausted for an entire week!) Since Cape Cod, not much new has happened. I'm getting bigger (had to break down and buy the next size up in my maternity jeans... sigh.) And I'm starting to feel the baby more. He likes to kick my right side all day (or night) long. Kyle's even SEEN the movement now a few times. So weird/awesome. I'm now sitting at my desk at work with headphones on my belly, playing classical music to the baby... he's kicking a bit. :) Makes me happy.

Thursday, 33 weeks, 2 days: Today a co-worker asked if I was nervous about the upcoming birth... I thought about it for a second and then honestly answered, "No." If you had asked me this a few weeks ago, the answer would probably have been a resounding YES!!! But the more I learn about the birth process, the less nervous I become. I know in my heart of hearts that I CAN DO THIS. There is no longer a question in my mind. It's a wonderful feeling. :) Yoga is helping me relax SO MUCH and I've been reading all sorts of books on natural childbirth and they really helping to give me confidence. I'm quite excited about the whole thing. :)

Friday, 33 weeks, 3 days: Feeling a bit blue today. :( Seems no one can make it to my baby shower. I know summer is a busy time of year and my friends and family are scattered all over the place these days... but still, I was hoping at least a dozen or so girls could get together for an afternoon. Looks like it'll be about 8 of us instead (including me and Caitlin). Sigh. It's just so lame, because instead of making me feel loved and special, this shower is now making me feel lame, friendless, and sort of unimportant. :( :( I'm having such a pity party for myself. Ugh.

Saturday, 34 weeks, 4 days: Had my shower today. For all the pity-partying that I did, the shower turned out LOVELY. :) Small and intimate and quite enjoyable. My mom and sister are in town for the weekend and I'm having the nicest time with them. Lots and lots of warm fuzzies.

Friday, 35 weeks, 3 days: We toured the birth center today at UCSF. First of all, it made me feel MUCH BETTER to actually SEE where I'll be giving birth. (It was also a good practice run for me and Kyle... we had NO idea where to go. Yikes! Second of all, I had the craziest realization while I was there: the next time I walk down those halls I'll likely be taking a beautiful baby boy home with me in my arms. SO FREAKING CRAZY and WONDERFUL. It's all becoming very real. The last few weeks have dragged a bit... but now I'm starting to feel like I'm back on the run away train again. Baby could literally come at ANY moment!

Saturday, 35 weeks, 4 days: The nursery is slowly but surely starting to look like a nursery! I honestly can't believe it! We picked up the dresser today, set up the pack-n-play, put the nightstand together and hauled some boxes out of the room. It's really coming along. :)

Tuesday, 36 weeks: Today I couldn't decide between a chocolate chip cookie and an ice cream... so I got both. :) I love loving ice cream and baked goods. Best pregnancy cravings ever.

Wednesday, 36 weeks, 1 day: OMG - my boobs make food! Just a tiny tiny little amount of basically nothing... but there was definitely SOMETHING there in the shower this morning!!!! WEIRD! Food! From my boobs!!! Gah!

Friday, 37 weeks, 3 days: My water broke this morning. I'm sitting here, about 12 hours later, and I think labor might actually be starting. Weird. Contractions so far are uncomfortable but manageable. They feel nothing like I thought they would. Go figure. When I realized my water broke this morning I was really freaked out and a bit disappointed... still so much left to do before baby arrives! Oh well...

My First Mother's Day

B is crying, wanting an afternoon nurse session and I'm trying desperately to finish the lunch that we had to take to-go because B was having a meltdown in the restaurant.

Me: Ugh. I think he's still hungry. I wish you had boobs so you could feed him and I could eat in peace for once.
Kyle: oh come on, you wouldn't like me very much ...if I had boobs.
Me: ha ha, now I'm picturing you with boobs.
Kyle: Lovely.
Me: Saggy, floppy boobs!
Kyle: Gah! Why would you give me saggy floppy boobs!?!?
Me: Because that's what happens when you have a baby. Get used to it. When we all done having kids, you can get a boob lift.
Kyle: Thanks?

In other news - I successfully nursed B without a cover in a cafe this afternoon! Happy Mother's Day to me! :) It's amazing to me how much easier breastfeeding has gotten over the past 8 1/2 months. B and I are seasoned pros now. It's awesome and I love it. I always knew that I wanted to breastfeed my children, but I don't think I was fully prepared to love it as much as I do. It's pretty much the best thing ever and one of the few motherly things I feel like I'm actually "good" at.

And speaking of eating - Barrett, Kyle and I had our first official "family dinner" last night where we all sat down at the same time and ate the same thing: pork chops, peas, and steamed potatoes. Yum! B-man is a HUGE fan of pork chops. His eyes totally lit up when I gave him his first bite. And I am continually impressed by his ability to gum pretty much anything I give him. Who needs teeth?? (I'm pretty sure the two he's sporting on bottom serve only an aesthetic purpose.)

Anyway, it's pretty awesome to have a whole holiday dedicated just to me (and all the other mommies out there)... I never fully appreciated Mother's Day before I had a kid of my own. But I guess that true of a lot of things.

Barrett Discoveres Gravity

Sooooo.... B is WAY too big for his swing, we can't even come close to buckling the straps after we put him in the thing. (And I'm sure he's like 10 lb over the weight limit.) But he still likes to lay in it sometimes and sort of relax/zone out before we put him to bed, and who am I to deprive him of some much needed chill time, right?

Well, last night he was in there all dreamy eyed while Kyle and I ate dinner. Just as I was about to finish my stir-fry, B decides to do a BIG STRETCH and ROLL OVER.... and then he went *splat*, face first onto the hardwood floor. :( :( He was obviously fine (swing is only about a foot off the ground) but of course he cried like he lost an eyeball or something. I swooped him up and made sure he was ok and then... once I was sure he was fine.... I totally laughed at him.

::hangs head in shame::

He just looked like a total cartoon character all splatted out on the floor. :\

Me = worst mom ever.

One Day

One day I'm going to look back fondly at this time in my life, right? I'll forget the exhaustion and frustration and worry and all the other crap, and I'll just remember the good stuff. Right? The tiny fingers, the chubby legs, the sweet smiles. That's the stuff I'll remember, RIGHT??

My guess is that the mind is mercifully selective in what it chooses to hang on to. It must be, or everyone would be an only child.

The B-man peed in my bed last night and today I'm living on coffee. Ugh. I'm looking forward to the day when I think back on moments like this with nothing but the happiest of feelings.

Toes

Little man discovered his toes today and is now entirely too captivated by them to sleep. It is equal parts absolutely adorable and terribly frustrating.

He Pooped!

He did it! He pooped! It took him three whole days, but he finally did it. And it looked like peanut butter. PEANUT BUTTER. Just like it's supposed to look when they start solid food. I've never been so proud. (Seriously. I almost took a picture of it. Thank goodness I didn't, right?)

This whole starting solids business is tough stuff. Really, this whole growing up business is tough. It's all happening so fast, and I feel like I'm not exactly keeping up. He changes and grows and learns SO MUCH everyday. Just when I feel like I've got a rhythm down, BAM everything changes.

Take for instance his car seat. Just when I finally got the hang of putting him in the thing, and then collecting my pump, my lunch, his bag, and my purse and then schlepping him and all that crap downstairs to car, he freakin outgrows his seat. :\ Now I have to carry him in my arms to the car to his convertible (read: non-removable) seat. In my ARMS! My bare arms!! He's all free now as I carry him down the street. Frankly, it makes both of us a little uncomfortable. What the eff!? Couldn't he have learned to walk before outgrowing the infant seat?

And solids. UGH. Do not get me started on solids. Can't he just be breastfed forever? I don't know what he likes, or how much to give him, or even how to give it to him. (Purees vs. baby led weaning, cereal vs. no cereal, homemade vs. store bought.) It's all very over-whelming. And the poop thing just about pushed me over the edge. Three days he went without pooping. :( My poor little guy. Why!? Why no poop??? I have to assume it was because of the solids. But which one??? And was it one in particular? Or just the fact that he's now processing food (any food) for the first time and it's just generally tough on him? Will I ever know? Or will it just forever be a mystery to me. Where are the answers???

He finally pooped today. Thank goodness. But then he refused his bottle all day with the nanny. And yesterday he only ate 5 oz with her. :( Today - fearing that he might starve to death, she decided to feed him bananas and cereal. On the one hand I'm very pleased she didn't let my baby starve to death... on the other hand, I missed his first experience with bananas. :( :( :( Apparently he loved them. This makes me equal parts elated and depressed. He loves bananas!! Yay! I missed him loving bananas. ::cries:: And ack! Bananas? What if they bind him up and he goes another 3 days without a bowel movement?? And how did I not know he liked bananas? What else does he like that I don't know about yet??? p.s. I learned today that his favorite song is happy birthday... here I thought it was skid-a-mer-rinky-dinky-dink :\ I'm his mother and I don't even know his favorite song. :(

I think the reason I was so excited to see the peanut butter poop (aside from being jazzed that my little guy got some relief finally) was that I was EXPECTING peanut butter poop. Like I said, it's what the poop is supposed to look like. I feel like we got some sort of "right answer" in the game of Life. I need more of those. More right answers. I feel like way too much of this whole parenting thing is just blindly throwing darts in the dark... and I'm not even sure if there's a target anywhere in the room.

Blah.

But at least he pooped. I'll take that small victory.

...

In other sad news... B was supposed to help me pick my March Madness bracket tonight. I was looking forward to it all day. But he was tired and cranky so I put him to bed without having him help me :( I'm so sad I want to cry.

5 1/2 Months And Then Some

When Barrett was about a week old I wrapped him up safe and sound and cozy in my moby wrap and Kyle and I took him for a walk in the park near our house. He was just a little potato with arms and he slept the entire time, his little baby nose making the sweetest squeaky noise with each breath he took. He was SO tiny. And SO cute. I just wanted time to stand still forever. As we walked around the park, we came across another couple with a little baby boy. He was HUGE! Smiling and playing in his mommy's arms; looking around, grabbing at her hair. He was like a little person. I asked how old he was and the mom told me 5 1/2 months. My heart broke to think of Barrett ever being that old. I was still counting his age in days.

Barrett will be 6 months old next weekend. He's as old (or older!) as that little boy we saw in the park. I love how aware and alert and interested he is now. I love the way he "chats" and picks up toys. I love his giggles. I love the way his face lights up when he sees me. I love watching him watch people. I love the way his eyes pop open in the morning and he grins instantly - ready to take on the day... but I miss him being tiny. I miss the squeaky nose. I miss him sleeping on me all day long. I miss watching him struggle and stretch and yawn and squirm, trying so hard to wake up while seeming to think that sleep is so nice and maybe I'll just stay asleep for 5 more minutes mommy.

It's very bittersweet.

Now when we're out in the world and we come across a couple with a brand new baby I wonder if they wonder about how old Barrett is. And I wonder if they secretly pray that time will freeze and that their little one will stay tiny and new forever.

I'm sure they do.

Completely Consumed

Barrett has started doing this thing where I snuggle my nose against his and he opens his mouth and closes his eyes and he giggles and I feel completely swallowed up by love. It's the greatest thing I have ever experienced in my life. Ever. That is all.

12 Weeks

12 weeks ago, today, I was walking around town in an adult diaper wondering when labor would start. 12 weeks ago I waited, in eager anticipation, to meet my son. 12 weeks ago my life changed forever in the most wonderful way possible. :)

My (not so) little man is 12 weeks old today! And what is he doing to celebrate? Why, he's rocking his 6 month old jammies, of course.



In my (giant) baby's defense, his cloth diapers give him the fluffiest bottom ever - which, I'm pretty sure, take up at least a third of the jammies.

Other milestones this week include finding (and subsequently attempting to devour) his left hand:


And here he is giving mommy the "stop taking pictures and FEED me already" face:


Sigh.

Happy 12 weeks, B!!!

What Do You Get

Question: What do you get when you cross a Fem-bot (think Austin Powers)

with a Dairy Cow


...

The answer? Me.

Here I sit, wearing my snazzy hands free pumping bra,

(which, p.s., boasts THIS picture in its ad:

Can't you just TOTALLY see me sitting at work nonchalantly pumping boobie juice from my body while I chat it up on the phone? This girl makes it look so easy! Gah!)

pumping away.

My boobs are basically empty because B is apparently a bottomless pit of starvation (and has been for the last 2 days!) but I still have to attempt to get my "freezer stash" built before I go back to work.

I really should have started working on my stash sooner... but I had such oversupply issues in the beginning that I didn't want to exacerbate the issue by pumping... and then, because I seemed to be making plenty of milk for B, I felt all cocky... like my boobs could make an infinite amount of milk. I could get 10 oz in a pumping session, after feeding B, with one boob tied behind my back! I will have a million ounces in my freezer stash!!! Ha HA!!!!

Or, you know, not.

I've got 82 ounces now, and with B's latest growth spurt I'll be lucky to make it 100 oz by Monday.

:(

And then every single weekday - for the next 3-9 months I will sit in the bathroom at work, strap on my ohsosexy pumping bra, and make food for my baby.

Mooooo.

Drowning

The thought of returning to work on Monday makes me feel like I'm drowning... :(

I hate it. I DETEST it. What has become of our country where a family needs two incomes just to survive?? Why can't a mother just stay home and raise her child???

We ran the numbers - on Kyle's salary alone, we could technically live... but just barely. I'm talking PB&J for lunch AND dinner. And B would have to get all of his clothes at goodwill. And heaven forbid the car break down or some other big expense pop up - we'd be hosed. And sure, we've got some savings... but if we burn through that now, we'll have nothing left. :( Nothing to fall back on. What if Kyle gets laid off????

It just doesn't make financial sense for me not to return to work. Even though 37% of my take home pay will go straight to child care. :( We just can't walk away from that other 63%. It's not a LOT of money - but it definitely helps.

But my heart is totally and completely broken. I am so in love with Barrett it blows my mind. Every sigh, every whimper, every grin. I want to be there. I want to experience it. It's totally selfish, I know. B's life will be better if mommy and daddy aren't totally stressed over money. I know this. Financial problems can break up homes - I've seen it happen. And the thought of watching EVERY SINGLE PENNY for the foreseeable future - ugh. What kind of life would that be? For any of us?

Plus, if I quit my job, I risk not being able to find another one in my field when I decide to go back... and it's not like it'll get any easier to go back. Do I think I'll be less in love with him a year from now?? Even once B starts school, he'll probably have a little brother or sister that needs mommy-ing. I'd likely be out of the workforce for 5 or 6 years. I wouldn't even know HOW to return after that long off. Who would hire me?? And if I think it's hard to return to a 9-5 gig after 12 weeks off, can you imagine returning after 6 years??? If I quit, not only would I be dumping a ton of pressure on Kyle as the sole provider - but I'd likely doom myself to never working in the Engineering world again. What kind of job would I even get 6 years from now???

I keep telling myself over and over and over again that me working is what's BEST for Barrett. He will still love me. I will still be his mommy. But it is so difficult. I keep thinking that there MUST be some other way... I feel like I'm frantically splashing around looking for a life preserver, something, ANYTHING that would work for our family... but again and again I come up short. There is no way for me to stay home with and raise my own child. Not unless I win the lottery... :(

Note to self: start playing lottery.

my sleeping ball and chain

Hmmm... I laid Barrett down on my bed for a minute while I got dressed after my (way too short, thank you screaming child) shower and he instantly fell asleep. I don't dare wake him up now by moving him, but I also can't just leave him in here alone. (soft blankets and all that jazz...) So now I'm stuck in my bedroom. Hmmm, I guess I'll fold laundry?

The Awesome Birth Of Barrett Allan

It's been a while since I posted anything to my blog. What can I say, I've been busy... growing a kid. Here is the story of the day he was born:

I woke up Friday morning (8/20/2010) at about 6am after a terrible, insomnia filled, night’s sleep to find that my water had ruptured. Oh dear.

How did I know my water broke? Well, my jammies were quite a bit wetter than normal AND there was a 6-inch diameter wet spot on the sheet. Gross. Damn – really wish I had put that waterproof mattress pad on the bed! Plus, when I got up, there was a little “woosh” of fluid down there and I could feel stuff running down my leg. Double gross. I was 37 weeks and 3 days along in my pregnancy… so although I was full term I had ZERO expectation of going into labor that day. (First baby, so I was expecting him to come late.)

I was partly SUPER excited, but also a bit bummed. Baby still looked so high in my belly and I hadn’t experienced so much as a Braxton Hicks contraction yet. I was certain that my water had ruptured before it was really “supposed” to and that I would end up needing an induction, which I REALLY did not want. Plus… I didn’t feel quite ready to be done being pregnant yet. I felt like I was just getting “good” at it. AND I wanted more time to practice my hypnobirthing skills (which I had TOTALLY been procrastinating doing) and I wanted to go to a few more prenatal yoga classes, the nursery was a mess, and Kyle and I still had a TON of errands to get done before baby’s arrival. Now all those things simply wouldn’t happen. :( It was definitely a bittersweet feeling. I secretly hoped my water bag would somehow repair itself and I could go on being pregnant for another week or so.

The funny thing is that one of my first thoughts was “OMG – I can’t wait to tell the girls on the bump that my water broke!" It's crazy how close you can become to online friends. I actually told a whole group of virtual friends that baby was on his way before I even told Kyle! (In my defense, it was super early on his day off and he was sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to disturb him just yet.)

Anyway, I decided not to call the hospital right away. I had tested negative for GSB and nothing had been in the baby cave for quite some time – so I was confident that my risk of infection was low even with my bag of waters open. I REALLY didn’t want the hospital to start any sort of “clock” just yet. I eventually woke Kyle up and told him the news (oh the expression on his face!!!!! PRICELESS! I wish I had video-taped it!) We decided to wait until that evening to call the hospital to see if we could get labor started on our own.

The first thing I did was take a LONG shower. I shaved. I washed my hair, TWICE. Mostly I just tried to get really clean before what I assumed would be a VERY long day (maybe even a long weekend!) When I got out of the shower there was another woosh of fluid that ran down my leg. So I got back in the shower, rinsed off, and then got back out. And then another woosh. Well – THAT was getting old quickly. I got back in the shower and then got out again and this time immediately stuffed a towel between my legs – which caught a third woosh of fluid. Ha! Not gonna run down my leg THIS time! :)

I then put on some granny undies, a SUPER maxi-pad, and stuck a washcloth between my legs and got dressed. Kyle and I ate a big breakfast of scrambled eggs and fruit and then proceeded to talk about what we should do to get my labor going. We decided that we may as well get some of those errands done so we walked to the grocery store (where I proceeded to pick up some adult diapers, because the washcloth was NOT cutting it any longer! I soaked through it, the pad, and the jeans I was wearing - luckily they were dark and you couldn't see the wet spot… p.s. in my opinion adult diapers are an absolute MUST. I don’t think I would have made it through labor without them!) and then we walked to our favorite coffee shop (where I got TWO donuts) and then we tidied up the house and tried to make SOME order out of the chaos that was the unfinished nursery. And then we went out to lunch. By about 2pm or so there was still no sign of labor. :( Although I did notice that I was STARVING… which I took to be a promising sign. It was like my body was getting ready for a marathon and was trying to carbo load or something.

Kyle’s mom recommended that we try getting in the car and driving over some bumpy railroad tracks (apparently that’s what got her labor going with him.) So we decided to run a few more errands in the car. We didn’t have a video camera yet – so we went to Best Buy to pick one up. And then we went by my office to pick up some things that I had left there (I was still three days away from starting maternity leave so I hadn’t exactly packed all my stuff up yet) When I got there my co-workers asked if I had time to eat some cake (they hadn’t gotten me a surprise happy maternity leave cake before they even knew that my water had broken – So sweet!!!) So Kyle and I sat around with my co-workers chatting and eating cake. I think my co-workers were pretty surprised at how mellow I was considering I was supposed to be in labor any moment. While we sat there I noticed a couple moments of slight uncomfortable-ness.

Was THIS the start of labor???

By this time it was about 4:30pm and I decided we should get going because we still wanted to drop some stuff off at UPS and maybe make one more grocery store run. After the UPS stop I was still feeling pretty good. I told Kyle I really wanted to go the grocery store, but he thought maybe we should just go home as it sounded like labor could pick up at any moment and we still wanted to clean the house a bit more before things got crazy. I told him he was a fuddy-duddy but agreed to just go home.

By the time we got home (about 5 minutes later) things had indeed picked up. In fact, it was sort of like I fell off a cliff. Kyle wanted to install the car seat in the car and I was going to just hang out with him while he did it. But first I had to pee. My intention was to pee and then come back outside to help with the car seat. I came in the house, went to the bathroom, and then noticed that the moments of uncomfortable-ness were happening more and more often. I realized I wasn't going to make it back outside.

I decided labor might finally be starting for real (hooray!) and I remember thinking that whatever the heck I was feeling (which, by the way, felt NOTHING like what I expected contractions to feel like) felt uncomfortable. Not painful. Not scary. Not bad. Not a lot of pressure. Not even “intense”. Just really uncomfortable. My body could totally tolerate the feeling, but I was definitely thinking, “Man, I would prefer to not be feeling so uncomfortable right now!” If anyone has ever done the Thai Goddess position in yoga class I would say it’s a LOT like that feeling. You definitely want it end, but while you’re in the position you don’t feel like you are going to die or anything. You just accept that it is what it is and look forward to it being over because it feels so nice when you are done. Anyway, so I posted a note on the bump about my labor maybe starting. The time of the posting was 5pm. Another bumpie (Hi Carriebrad!!) asked me if the contractions were timeable yet and I thought, “Good question”… so I fired up one of those online contraction timing things. Well, it was a bit tough to tell when exactly each contraction started and stopped but I did my best at timing them. I timed about 4 of them and according to the website the contractions were coming every 2 ½ minutes and they were lasting 1 – 1 ½ minutes each. “Well that can’t be right.” I thought to myself, “I’m obviously timing them wrong b/c I’ve only been in labor for like 15 minutes and it’s supposed to take a lot longer for contractions to be that close together.” Also – it was getting harder and harder to operate the computer so I decided to just sit on the couch for a little and wait for Kyle to finish up with the car seat.

Sitting on the couch turned into standing next to the couch with my body bent forward and my hands leaning on the couch armrest… sort of like a standing version of being on all fours (my thinking was: if labor was indeed starting I wanted to make sure baby had the best chance of being in the proper anterior position... I considered doing cat-cow but standing felt better). The uncomfortable-ness was happening more frequently and I remember thinking, “Ok, I think this is definitely labor.” I could feel it in my lower abdomen, my pelvic floor, and my tailbone. I was really expecting sharp, shooting pain (a friend once described labor as feeling like someone was cutting you open from the inside with a thousand knives!) but it was nothing like that. I was also expecting a clear start and stop to each contraction… but that didn’t really happen either. They sort of faded in and out rather than starting and stopping. And the best part was as soon as a contraction faded it was GONE. Totally and completely GONE. Like gone to the point that I was having trouble remembering exactly what it felt like when it was there. Almost as if it had never been there to begin with. It was SO WEIRD. I’d be all like, “wait, where did it go!? How am I going to describe labor to my friends if the contractions keep disappearing before I get a chance to fully wrap my head around what they feel like!?”

So Kyle finally finished with the car seat and came inside and I asked him to time the contractions for me. He also timed them at 2 and half minutes apart lasting over a minute. It was then that I got a little nervous and decided I should call the hospital and at least let them know that I would be coming in soon. I tried to downplay the situation so that I could labor at home a bit longer. I told them hat I was having contractions “a few” minutes apart and that they were lasting about a minute and that I *THOUGHT* my water had MAYBE broken. (I still didn’t want to give them a reason to start the “clock” just in case my labor decided to die back down.) They told me I should probably come in. I told them that I still needed to pack a bag and that I would be in in an hour or two. They seemed ok with that. Cool. Then I called my doula and updated her on my status. She asked if I thought she should come over and I told her that I was probably ok for now. (I was still in denial that labor was moving as fast as it was and I figured that I was handling the situation fine enough by myself… I was a bit afraid that introducing a new person – even just my doula – to the labor environment might somehow mess things up. Looking back, I think I would have labored much better with my doula present (because I honestly wasn’t NEARLY as relaxed as I really should have been)… but at the time my thinking was, “well, it’s not broken, let’s not fix it.” So I told the doula that I would call her back when I was ready for her to come over.

Before I got off the phone with her she did tell me something that DEFINITELY helped get me through. I told her labor was in full swing and that contractions were getting really strong. She said, “Great! The good news is that they won’t get any stronger, they’ll just come more often.”

Wait. What??? Seriously? They’re not going to get any stronger??? But I’m handling them. Quite well, if I do say so myself. So, if I can handle THESE… and they’re not going to get any stronger… that means that I can handle ALL of them!

This was the BEST news I had heard all day. I remember thinking, “IS THIS ALL YOU GOT, LABOR!?!?! BRING IT ON!!!!!!” Knowing that I had already survived the full strength of a contraction gave me all the motivation I needed to carry on.

So carry on I did. I found myself saying things in my head like, “It is what it is. Just accept it. Every contraction brings the baby closer. Every contraction means my baby WANTS to be born. I can do this. I can do this for my baby. I love my baby. This is for him. I LOVE YOU, BABY!” It worked really well for a while. And the contractions did come closer and closer together, but they really didn’t get any worse… It was great!

Until, of course, I realized that I was laboring directly on top of my brand new, expensive, living room rug. Gah. Contractions were coming fast and by this time each one made me feel like I REALLY had to pee and maybe poop. The contractions were coming so close together that I didn’t have time in between them to use the bathroom. And I suddenly became TERRIFIED that I would pee all over my new rug. This was BAD NEWS. Suddenly my contractions felt worse. THE DOULA LIED!!!! I thought to myself. They DO get stronger!!! I still didn’t feel like I wanted an epidural (it wasn’t a sharp or ouchie feeling) but suddenly I DESPERATELY wanted a catheter. I would have given my ARM for a catheter. (Weird, right?) I found myself fighting the contractions because I was afraid they’d make me pee. (If I hadn’t been wearing an adult diaper I probably wouldn’t have been able to make it… knowing that even if I did pee I at least had SOME protection helped a ton.) It started to get pretty awful. Fighting a contraction – for any reason (fear of pain, fear of peeing on the carpet) – is just terrible. It was like my brain and my body were enemies and I was trapped in the middle. I think THIS is what gives labor its bad name of being torture. It’s not the labor itself that is necessarily so bad – it’s the fighting the labor that makes it hell. If I could give anyone advice it would be to NOT FIGHT. Just accept it, surrender to it, and allow things to move forward.

Note: at some point in all this laboring (I don’t remember when) I got REALLY hot. Like DRIPPING with sweat hot. And I got shaky. And I felt like I was going to throw up. And I remember thinking…. "WTF – I’m not supposed to feel like this until I get to transition!" (It never even OCCURRED to me that I was IN transition! Duh!) I managed to strip down out of my clothes until I was wearing nothing but a bra, a tank top, an adult diaper, and socks. I was DEAD SEXY writhing around my living room terrified I might pee on my new rug.

So anyway, I finally realized that things might go better if I simply moved OFF the rug. But the thing is, the spaces between contractions were like CANDY. They were the most wonderfully amazing spaces of time I had ever experienced. They were down right euphoric. (It’s like that old saying – Why do you keep hitting yourself with a hammer? Because it feels SO GOOD when I stop.) And they were short. WAY too short. It was all but impossible to bring myself to waste even a few seconds of one moving from the rug to anywhere else in the house. Finally, I realized that it was my fear of ruining the rug that was causing me to fight the contractions and that THAT was what was making them seem so bad. I HAD to move if I was going to get through it. So I made up my mind that during the next break between contractions I would move myself to the bathroom. (I also decided to grab a banana b/c I figured as long as I was moving I should grab a snack.)

The contraction ended and I took a deep breath and moved as fast as humanly possible to grab my banana (which was just a few feet away) and get to the bathroom. Note: I wasn't hungry AT ALL... but figured I would need the energy and if worse came to worst, I wouldn't mind throwing up a banana. I managed to make it the 8 or 9 steps to the bathroom and sit down on the toilet just in time to deal with the next contraction. It was difficult to manage, but it was CERTAINLY better than it had been in the living room. Thank goodness! It was about this time that I started to realize that we really needed to go to the hospital. Labor was obviously not slowing down and I had absolutely no concept of time but I felt like I had accomplished my goal of “laboring at home for as long as possible.” (Note: it was 6:30pm at this point, so it had been about an hour and a half. Another note: I think for my next pregnancy instead of laboring “as long as possible” at home, a better goal would be "labor at home till you get to transition". Because for me “as long as possible” almost had me delivering the kid on the toilet!). I told Kyle to call the doula and tell her to meet us at the hospital. He did and she said ok, and she also asked to speak with me. I REALLY didn’t feel like speaking to anyone, but finally agreed. I told her contractions were coming fast and that they had been getting painful and that I had to go to the hospital. She said, “Ok, I’ll meet you there – but first I want to talk you through your next contraction so I can help you with this pain you think you’re feeling.”

Woah. I don't know if she meant to phrase it that way, but as soon as she said, “pain you THINK you are feeling” it was like a little bell dinged inside my head. I suddenly remembered the whole mind-body connection thing I’d learned about in hypnobirthing. I remembered how powerful my brain was in determining what my body felt. I was suddenly totally receptive to the idea that the next contraction would be more manageable than the last. My doula had me breathe slowly with her during my next contraction and she told me to focus not just on the break that came AFTER the contraction, but also on the second half of the contraction. The half that led into the break. (By this point, contractions had a more definite start to them, but the stop was still a bit fuzzy. Combining the break between contractions with the second (less intense) half of the contraction made the breaks seem longer, which was nice.) We breathed together for a contraction and it was TOTALLY TOTALLY manageable. It was down right pleasant. (Well almost) Damn. I really should have had her come over to the house like an hour ago. Oh well.

So there I was laboring on the toilet. Kyle, meanwhile was frantically running around the house trying to get stuff ready for the hospital and generally stay out of my way. He had tried to help me with my contractions a bit – but trying to explain exactly what I wanted from him (“massage me here, less pressure, more pressure, higher, lower, etc.”) was worse than just dealing with the contractions on my own. So I shooed him away.

By about 7-ish my body started involuntarily trying to push the baby out... right there on the toilet. (You know how your stomach spasms when you throw up and you have no control over it… well it was sort of like that, but in the other direction.) The contractions slowed down quite a bit and I was able to catch my breath between them a bit more. I remembered that my hypnobirthing teacher called this period of slow down "Rest-and-be-thankful". And I WAS thankful. I had a few moments of clarity that I used to yell from the bathroom, “We really need to go. RIGHT NOW!” I instructed Kyle to grab me a dress from the dryer and some slip on shoes. (I had originally planned to just go the hospital in a bathrobe, but I was WAY too hot to even consider putting on a robe. The dress in the dryer was the first thing I could think of that I knew the EXACT location of. I really wanted to give Kyle SPECIFIC instructions so we wouldn’t waste any time.) Breathing out long and hard and making a low groan noise as my uterus contracted actually felt pretty good. Was much easier than trying to get through the earlier contractions.

We made it into the car and to the hospital. (Luckily it’s only a few miles away.) I had my eyes closed the entire time… and my body continued to try to push the baby out on it’s own. I prayed and prayed that my little guy would hang on for just a few more minutes. PLEASE don’t be born in the car little baby, I begged.

We got to the hospital at 7:30-something, parked illegally, and then all we had to do was make it to the L&D floor. Which, mind you, is not close to the entrance to the hospital. Walking at a normal speed it probably takes a good 5 minutes to make the walk. In my condition it took at least 15 minutes. I had to really focus on EVERY step. And a few times I had to pause to let my body push. (While keeping my legs closed so I wouldn’t actually push the baby out!) At least two people offered to get me a wheel chair but I declined. (Looking back, I totally regret this. I think I was just being stubborn. I wanted to do it all on my own, but really I should have just accepted the darn wheelchair!)

Anyway – so we made it to the L&D floor and we walked up to the nurses’ station and I gave them my name (still with my eyes closed). The nurse asked if I could give her a urine sample. I shook my head no, opened one eye, and managed to get the words “I’m pushing” out of my mouth. She asked what I meant by that and I remember thinking, “What do you think I mean???” Just then another contraction came and my entire body started to bear down. “Oh no!!” She said. “Don’t do that. Not here. Don’t push yet. Breathe through it.” (As if I had ANY choice in the matter.) The on-call doc came over and said I needed to be checked before they could admit me. The nurse assigned to me said, “Ummmm, she’s pushing, we need to get her to a room” but the doc insisted so we went to triage. They examined me for roughly 8 seconds. Pretty much as soon as they lifted my dress up and cut my disposable adult diaper off, the doc pronounced me 10 centimeters, +1 station. So they wheeled me to a L&D room. (Note, my nurse later told me that she knew the baby would come fast because she saw my "brown show" when she cut my diaper off. Apparently I pooped myself on the way to the hospital... Lovely. Yet another reason to wear a diaper!)

Once in the L&D room, they made me transfer from the gurney to the bed (which was TOUGH!) and then they made a few quick adjustments on the bed. And then about 8 people crowded around my vagina (it’s a teaching hospital, so I was prepared for an audience) and then the doc said, “Ok, we’re all set to go, whenever you’re ready you can push.” And I remember thinking, “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not exactly ME who’s pushing… it’s my uterus… but it’s nice to know you’ve given it the go ahead because YOU’RE ready.” I also remember thinking “WOAH, this baby is really coming! Like right now! Crazy!!!! I thought it would take A LOT longer!” (Yep – even then I was STILL in denial about how fast my labor was going!)

My doula arrived at the hospital just then (She almost missed the birth! I totally should have called her earlier.) She sat down next to me and whispered in my ear to breath down and out. (Which was MUCH nicer to hear than the PUSH PUSH PUSH that everyone else in the room was chanting.) I LOVED having her soft voice in my ear and it definitely helped me focus. With the second surge I heard Kyle say, “He’s crowning!” And I thought, “YAY!” I really wanted to make sure I didn’t tear so I tried as hard as I could to just let my uterus do all the work and not force any extra pushes. This meant lying still between surges with baby’s head just sort of chillin half in and half out – which actually didn’t feel half bad. The doc kept telling me to push and I kept saying, “No! Not yet. Not right now.” (I really wanted to say – “look buddy, my body knows what it’s doing and it doesn’t need any coaching from you… leave me alone! Sheesh.”) And then the next surge would come and I would let out a big, low “uuuuhhhhhhhhh” noise as I tried to keep my jaw loose and just breath out and down with the contraction. With each surge baby’s head would move out a bit more. And everyone kept saying, “It’s ok, this is the ring of fire, you’re doing fine – just push the baby out” And I remember thinking, “Huh – ring of fire isn’t so bad… I can’t believe I’m almost done.” And then I yelled out loud, “Please don’t cut me!!!” And the doc sorta laughed and said, “don’t worry, I won’t, you don’t need any help from me, you’re doing fine.”

Whew!

A couple surges later baby’s head was all the way out and I remember thinking “Yay! We’re cheek to cheek!” (His cute baby face cheeks to my less cute butt cheeks.) I felt them check for the cord around his neck (which was NOT comfy! I was thinking, "HEY! Get your fingers out of there, I’m stretched to the max already!”) His neck was free and clear of the cord and with the next surge I could feel his shoulders start to come out and the nurse said, “If you push right now, this baby will be out.” And I thought, “Ok, fine. I’ll push.” So I gave one really big, super hard push and I could feel everything really stretch out down there and it felt super crazy but guess it gave my uterus the little extra oomph it needed because, sure enough, with that push baby came out!!! It felt INCREDIBLE. ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. Baby was all soft and slippery and his body just slid right out and it felt SO GOOD. I could feel my body be all like "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Sweet, sweet relief!!!" :) I remember thinking: "WE MADE IT!!!"

We had checked in at the nurses’ station sometime between 7:45 and 7:50pm… Barrett Allan was born at 8:06pm. Wow! He was born completely drug and intervention free, I only "pushed" about 5 or 6 times in the L&D room, and I didn't tear at all. Thank goodness. (Although I did get a couple "skid marks" near the baby cave in the process... just not on my perineum, thankfully. They were tiny, but they made peeing sting like the dickens for several days post partum. Boo.)

They immediately put him, all slimy, on my chest (right on top of my bra, doh... and I remember thinking, can someone get this damn bra off me! Luckily my doula was on it and managed to get it off ASAP.) I snuggled my son for a minute and then I exclaimed, “THAT WAS AWESOME!!!” which made everyone laugh. (I guess it’s not a typical thing they hear women shout out.) I was absolutely WIRED! SO much adrenaline pumping through my body. I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing and talking. I kept saying how great I felt and how I couldn’t wait to do it again with my next baby. (Ha ha.) We sat there for a couple minutes and Barrett was SO ALERT and SO CALM. He was just STARING so intently at everything. It felt like he was looking directly at my soul. Then the doctor clamped the cord so Kyle could cut it. (It splattered all over him – gross.) Then my placenta came out (piece of cake) and then it was all over.

Everyone left the room except Kyle, my doula, and my nurse, who was busying herself with disposing of my placenta. (Which, p.s., I asked to see before she tossed it out… and it was SO COOL looking. All big and thick and juicy. Like a huge steak! Much more substantial that I thought it would have been.) We hung out, took pictures, I breastfed, and we relived all the moments of the day until about 9pm when Kyle finally decided he should go re-park the car in a legal spot. When he got back, my doula decided to take off. (Probably the shortest day’s work she’s ever had! Totally my fault.) Then it was just me and Kyle and Barrett for another hour or so. :) Then the nurse came back and asked if we were ready to have Barrett weighed and if it was ok to give him the vitamin K shot and the eye stuff. Kyle brought him over to the scale, and then Barrett got his shot and the eye goop. They asked if we wanted to circumcise him and we decided, sort of spur of the moment, not to. Then Kyle went with him to the nursery where he got measured and checked out and given a general thumbs up while I ate some thai food that we had had delivered to the room. (Hospital room food delivery is the BEST freakin idea ever! Every restaurant should do this. Kyle gave the delivery guy a huge tip.)

Before I knew it it was 11:30pm and I had been moved to my recovery room and my perfect little son was all swaddled up in a clear Tupperware looking thing next to me and my hubby was there telling me how awesome I was. :) It was such an incredible day and I was still feeling so euphoric and alive from the delivery that I didn’t sleep a wink. I just stared at my perfect son all night long watching him sleep and listening to him breathe.