Showing posts with label Emmeline in utero. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emmeline in utero. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A speedier delivery
Emmeline's umbilical stump fell off yesterday, which meant she was able to get her first real bath. It almost means she's been home for more than a few days, which means a recounting of her delivery is most certainly overdue. So here's the story.
I'd been having contractions, cervical pressure, even some rectal pressure for weeks leading up to delivery day. I honestly began expecting an imminent delivery around 37 weeks, which is probably why it seemed like I was so late, when in reality Emme was born pretty much right on time. So when I spent Wednesday afternoon feeling more uncomfortable than usual, I thought it was just another stage in the wait-and-see game. By Wednesday night, though, the contractions, as I finally recognized them to be, were consistent enough that I started noting the time. They were 15 minutes or more apart, irregular, and nothing that had me completely convinced. I tried to sleep, but the contractions kept waking me up, so I moved upstairs to the nursery so that I wouldn't both Wes. I tracked the contractions on and off with a timer on my iTouch. Sometimes they were 10 minutes apart, sometimes more than 20. I rested between then, but I didn't really get any sleep. Many of them were painful, not just uncomfortable, and I was breathing, even groaning, through them. By morning, they were 6-8 minutes apart. Wes got up, got ready, and in my short time alone with Oliver, we decided he should go to daycare as I was going to get no downtime if he were to stay home. I called the midwife, who assured me I could wait awhile to come in, and my mother, whom we asked to travel up if the roads were safe enough. In the time I was up with Oliver and making phone calls, I got worried that the contractions seemed to drop off. I would still have a painful one every once in awhile, but some seemed really far apart. It's like my labor was stalling.
I tried to go to sleep after Wes took Oliver to daycare, but once again, things were consistent enough to keep me awake. I finally gave up and got in the bathtub, hoping it would give me some relief and either stop things all together or speed them up. After I got out, I finished packing my hospital bag (which I'd gotten out the night before) and sat down in the rocking chair in the living room and started watching Anne of Green Gables (from which Emmeline's name comes). My mom arrived. Wes went in to work for a meeting, then came home and took a conference call. The labor continued on as previously -- sometimes close together, sometimes a long time between them. I was getting frustrated, feeling like nothing was as I expected or had experienced with Oliver. I felt like I didn't know what to do. Around 2pm, Wes pushed me to go to the hospital. I was hesitant but knew I couldn't spent another 12 to 24 hours in this state and still have the energy to push a baby out. So I called the midwife on call and instead got the triage nurse in the office. She said I could go to the hospital or I could go to the office and get checked. I didn't want to go home from the hospital because I wasn't far enough progressed, so I elected to go get checked in the clinic.
Wes and I got out of the house around 3pm. I had one contraction in the waiting room (and was worried I was scaring the other very pregnant, but not laboring, woman there), then sat on the monitor for awhile with none. I figured the midwife was going to think I was nuts, insisting I was in labor or even uncomfortable with so few contractions. She talked about my options if I wasn't ready to head to the hospital -- including some "therapeutic rest" (which I think means some narcotics so I could sleep). But then she checked me -- and I was 8cm, 0 station, 100% effaced with a bulging bag of waters. She said as soon as my water broke, I would be ready to push. And so we were off.
When I got to the check-in desk at the hospital, the woman behind the desk seemed in disbelief that I was there to have a baby. I assured her that labor and delivery was expecting me, and she sent me back. The nurses in L&D laughed when they saw me coming in. They said, "We sure are impressed with Miss Elizabeth, walking in here like that at an 8." They made me feel good about my progress, after such a strange labor. I got changed into a gown, hooked up to a monitor, and had an IV put in so that I could receive the antibiotics for my GBS. They asked me lots of questions -- "Highest level of education?" Umm, still going. The midwife came and saw me. They weren't going to move along my labor -- by breaking my water, for example -- because they wanted me to get at least some antibiotic first. There were no other laboring patients from the clinic, so the midwife sat with me for parts of the next hour. She was very encouraging, told me I made it all look easy. The contractions got slightly more regular and a little more painful. I groaned through each contraction. After about 6-8 of them, I started to feel pressure. After a few more, the midwife offered for me to move, and I said I wanted off my back. They laid the table down, and I immediately felt an overwhelming urge to push. And so it was time.
With Oliver, I never felt the urge to push. I got to the hospital, they told me I was complete, and they encourage me to start pushing because the situation seemed emergent. I had to get myself to push. This time, there was no way I could have not pushed. The urge was so strong. Melissa, the midwife, checked me with the next contraction and told me I could start. And then, I couldn't stop. I pushed so hard and couldn't get myself to stop between contractions. I held tight to Wes's hand and just pushed and pushed. There was a little screaming, a swear word, and a lot of self-help talk -- "We can do this. We can do this." (I think the "we" was me and the baby. I don't know.) I knew it was only going to last so long, but this pain was definitely more than I had with Oliver. It was just all coming so fast. There is no possible way to describe the feeling of pushing a baby out. It feels like your body just can't possibly fit this thing out. It hurts. And then it's amazing. Her head came out, and everyone told me to look down. And strangely enough -- there was a baby there. One I didn't recognize but that clearly was mine -- since about half of her was still inside of me. They pulled her out and put her on my chest. They left the cord attached until it stopped pulsing and then cut the cord. Wes and I immediately started looking her over, both at her head, and laughed at each other for doing it. He spotted the aplasia before I did, and though we both feared the possibility, we weren't worried when we saw it. We knew what it was, and it clearly wasn't as serious as Oliver's case (only one spot, and almost filling in). They let her sit with me for a little while before taking her to be examined. Wes went with her as there were other concerns, including some skin abnormalities, and midwife tried to give me some time before putting in a few stitches. They had some trouble getting me to stop bleeding. I ultimately got Pitocin, Cytotec, and Methergine all to help with that. My uterus was firm, but I was loosing large clots of blood even into the next day. They brought Emme back to me so that I could nurse. We had to stay in the delivery room until my bleeding was under control. The nurse got me out of bed eventually so that I could go to the bathroom (an experience that made me very sympathetic for the my potty-training toddler, who is constantly watched to make sure he pees). I got woozy on my way back to the bed, so they got me some applejuice.
We finally made it post-partum around 8pm. Wes went with Emme to the nursery to get weighed and measured and have a pediatrician check her out. They were gone awhile, and it was after 9pm by the time they got back. Wes ended up staying the night at the hospital so that he could help me if I got woozy again, but I ended up being fine that night. Emme slept okay, and it was mostly the endless parade of nurses, care providers, and other people checking on us that kept me from really resting. The rest of the stay was largely uneventful. I saw Emme's pediatrician, the lactation consultant, and the midwife the next day. My mom and Oliver came over in the morning to meet the baby. Wes spent Friday evening with us and then went home to sleep and came back for us the next day.
Wes asked me Thursday night if I would do it without pain medication again for the next baby, if I had to make the choice right in that moment. And I said I would, if I were able to. My labor this time was very, very bearable because the contractions were spaced so far apart. But for the duration -- about 18 hours before delivery -- I never had a moment when I thought, "I wish I'd gotten an epidural." And by the time the pain of delivery was there, it was way too late to consider that option. And as intense as it is, there's a brief recognition of -- "Hey, that thing that really, really hurts down there is my kid coming out." And that's just cool.
I'd been having contractions, cervical pressure, even some rectal pressure for weeks leading up to delivery day. I honestly began expecting an imminent delivery around 37 weeks, which is probably why it seemed like I was so late, when in reality Emme was born pretty much right on time. So when I spent Wednesday afternoon feeling more uncomfortable than usual, I thought it was just another stage in the wait-and-see game. By Wednesday night, though, the contractions, as I finally recognized them to be, were consistent enough that I started noting the time. They were 15 minutes or more apart, irregular, and nothing that had me completely convinced. I tried to sleep, but the contractions kept waking me up, so I moved upstairs to the nursery so that I wouldn't both Wes. I tracked the contractions on and off with a timer on my iTouch. Sometimes they were 10 minutes apart, sometimes more than 20. I rested between then, but I didn't really get any sleep. Many of them were painful, not just uncomfortable, and I was breathing, even groaning, through them. By morning, they were 6-8 minutes apart. Wes got up, got ready, and in my short time alone with Oliver, we decided he should go to daycare as I was going to get no downtime if he were to stay home. I called the midwife, who assured me I could wait awhile to come in, and my mother, whom we asked to travel up if the roads were safe enough. In the time I was up with Oliver and making phone calls, I got worried that the contractions seemed to drop off. I would still have a painful one every once in awhile, but some seemed really far apart. It's like my labor was stalling.
I tried to go to sleep after Wes took Oliver to daycare, but once again, things were consistent enough to keep me awake. I finally gave up and got in the bathtub, hoping it would give me some relief and either stop things all together or speed them up. After I got out, I finished packing my hospital bag (which I'd gotten out the night before) and sat down in the rocking chair in the living room and started watching Anne of Green Gables (from which Emmeline's name comes). My mom arrived. Wes went in to work for a meeting, then came home and took a conference call. The labor continued on as previously -- sometimes close together, sometimes a long time between them. I was getting frustrated, feeling like nothing was as I expected or had experienced with Oliver. I felt like I didn't know what to do. Around 2pm, Wes pushed me to go to the hospital. I was hesitant but knew I couldn't spent another 12 to 24 hours in this state and still have the energy to push a baby out. So I called the midwife on call and instead got the triage nurse in the office. She said I could go to the hospital or I could go to the office and get checked. I didn't want to go home from the hospital because I wasn't far enough progressed, so I elected to go get checked in the clinic.
Wes and I got out of the house around 3pm. I had one contraction in the waiting room (and was worried I was scaring the other very pregnant, but not laboring, woman there), then sat on the monitor for awhile with none. I figured the midwife was going to think I was nuts, insisting I was in labor or even uncomfortable with so few contractions. She talked about my options if I wasn't ready to head to the hospital -- including some "therapeutic rest" (which I think means some narcotics so I could sleep). But then she checked me -- and I was 8cm, 0 station, 100% effaced with a bulging bag of waters. She said as soon as my water broke, I would be ready to push. And so we were off.
When I got to the check-in desk at the hospital, the woman behind the desk seemed in disbelief that I was there to have a baby. I assured her that labor and delivery was expecting me, and she sent me back. The nurses in L&D laughed when they saw me coming in. They said, "We sure are impressed with Miss Elizabeth, walking in here like that at an 8." They made me feel good about my progress, after such a strange labor. I got changed into a gown, hooked up to a monitor, and had an IV put in so that I could receive the antibiotics for my GBS. They asked me lots of questions -- "Highest level of education?" Umm, still going. The midwife came and saw me. They weren't going to move along my labor -- by breaking my water, for example -- because they wanted me to get at least some antibiotic first. There were no other laboring patients from the clinic, so the midwife sat with me for parts of the next hour. She was very encouraging, told me I made it all look easy. The contractions got slightly more regular and a little more painful. I groaned through each contraction. After about 6-8 of them, I started to feel pressure. After a few more, the midwife offered for me to move, and I said I wanted off my back. They laid the table down, and I immediately felt an overwhelming urge to push. And so it was time.
With Oliver, I never felt the urge to push. I got to the hospital, they told me I was complete, and they encourage me to start pushing because the situation seemed emergent. I had to get myself to push. This time, there was no way I could have not pushed. The urge was so strong. Melissa, the midwife, checked me with the next contraction and told me I could start. And then, I couldn't stop. I pushed so hard and couldn't get myself to stop between contractions. I held tight to Wes's hand and just pushed and pushed. There was a little screaming, a swear word, and a lot of self-help talk -- "We can do this. We can do this." (I think the "we" was me and the baby. I don't know.) I knew it was only going to last so long, but this pain was definitely more than I had with Oliver. It was just all coming so fast. There is no possible way to describe the feeling of pushing a baby out. It feels like your body just can't possibly fit this thing out. It hurts. And then it's amazing. Her head came out, and everyone told me to look down. And strangely enough -- there was a baby there. One I didn't recognize but that clearly was mine -- since about half of her was still inside of me. They pulled her out and put her on my chest. They left the cord attached until it stopped pulsing and then cut the cord. Wes and I immediately started looking her over, both at her head, and laughed at each other for doing it. He spotted the aplasia before I did, and though we both feared the possibility, we weren't worried when we saw it. We knew what it was, and it clearly wasn't as serious as Oliver's case (only one spot, and almost filling in). They let her sit with me for a little while before taking her to be examined. Wes went with her as there were other concerns, including some skin abnormalities, and midwife tried to give me some time before putting in a few stitches. They had some trouble getting me to stop bleeding. I ultimately got Pitocin, Cytotec, and Methergine all to help with that. My uterus was firm, but I was loosing large clots of blood even into the next day. They brought Emme back to me so that I could nurse. We had to stay in the delivery room until my bleeding was under control. The nurse got me out of bed eventually so that I could go to the bathroom (an experience that made me very sympathetic for the my potty-training toddler, who is constantly watched to make sure he pees). I got woozy on my way back to the bed, so they got me some applejuice.
We finally made it post-partum around 8pm. Wes went with Emme to the nursery to get weighed and measured and have a pediatrician check her out. They were gone awhile, and it was after 9pm by the time they got back. Wes ended up staying the night at the hospital so that he could help me if I got woozy again, but I ended up being fine that night. Emme slept okay, and it was mostly the endless parade of nurses, care providers, and other people checking on us that kept me from really resting. The rest of the stay was largely uneventful. I saw Emme's pediatrician, the lactation consultant, and the midwife the next day. My mom and Oliver came over in the morning to meet the baby. Wes spent Friday evening with us and then went home to sleep and came back for us the next day.
Wes asked me Thursday night if I would do it without pain medication again for the next baby, if I had to make the choice right in that moment. And I said I would, if I were able to. My labor this time was very, very bearable because the contractions were spaced so far apart. But for the duration -- about 18 hours before delivery -- I never had a moment when I thought, "I wish I'd gotten an epidural." And by the time the pain of delivery was there, it was way too late to consider that option. And as intense as it is, there's a brief recognition of -- "Hey, that thing that really, really hurts down there is my kid coming out." And that's just cool.
Emmeline's birth, a pictorial
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| Oliver visiting with me while Wes was in the shower. His last morning to be the "baby" in the family. I had been up laboring all night and was in no shape to be dealing with a toddler's morning antics! |
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| At the hospital getting checked in. I was getting penicillin and being monitored. |
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| In her bassinet once we moved to post-partum. |
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| Oliver meeting Emmeline. He brought the sheep and blanket as a gift to her, but he wasn't willing to part with them once he got there. |
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| Having trouble with her hospital hat. |
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| Looking at the world from inside her bassinet. |
Saturday, January 15, 2011
My girl
Emmeline Mae was born Thursday, January 13, 2011, 89 years after her paternal great-grandmother, Elizabeth. She was 7 lbs., 4 oz., and 19.75". She has dark brown hair, dark eyes, and long, skinny fingers with manicure-ready fingernails. So far, she is very alert, likes to nurse, and loves to be held. Welcome, dear daughter.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Come out, come out
My dear friend Kim has made a formal appeal to the baby for her arrival (similar to the one I made to her daughter, who arrived a day or two later). Feel free to join her by sharing your sentiments with the baby in the comments section. Perhaps she can read through my abdominal wall and will be moved -- literally -- by your comments.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Weigh In: Week 39 + 2
142.5 lbs. And baby is still in utero. I had a midwife's appointment this morning. I was supposed to be there in the afternoon, but the office called this morning around 9AM to confirm that I was in fact coming to the appointment (a couple of inches of snow here in Nashville, with most roads unplowed). I said I could come earlier if that would help, and the receptionist said they were pretty slow and I could come on in. I got a shower, called Wes to let him know I was going in earlier, and he decided to come pick me up and go with me to the appointment (something we'd planned on, but then he had a meeting scheduled for 2PM and wasn't going to be able to come). The roads were fine where they'd been plowed, but as I found out on the way home, slippery where they haven't yet been.
It turns out that the receptionist had told a lot of people the same thing she told me, and so we did have to wait almost an hour to be seen. The midwife, one I hadn't seen before, was very nice and apologized for the wait. She felt my belly and said the baby wasn't especially big, which is something I was starting to worry about (especially important when you want a drug-free delivery!). Her heartbeat sounds fine, and she is, of course, still head down. She checked me again, and I'm now 3 cm dilated, well effaced, and the baby's head is right against my cervix. I did let her strip my membranes. I had mixed feelings on this going in to the appointment. I've heard both the pros and cons of having this done. Those who favor it say that except for the risk of prematurely rupturing the membranes, there are no real risks. The process basically involves separating the amniotic sac from the edge of the cervix, which releases prostaglandins, which helps initiate labor. This argument says that it won't put a woman into labor if the baby is not ready for it, and it can provide a gentle nudge to baby if she is ready and just waiting (like this one is!). Those who are opposed to it say that the risk of rupturing the membranes is very real and problematic, since it puts you "on the clock" -- meaning you have to deliver within 24 hours, even if your body wasn't really ready to go into labor. It can be uncomfortable, and it can lead to additional interventions that can lead to a c-section that would not have happened had the stripping not happened. This argument is the norm among the hands-off crowd, who basically don't want any kind of intervention at all. That said, I felt like I was okay with having it done if the midwife supported it. This practice is pretty hands-off about these things and wouldn't recommend something they didn't think was a good idea. So when the midwife mentioned it, I told her that I knew what it was but didn't have a firm opinion on it. She said she's never ruptured someone's membranes in the process and definitely felt that it couldn't hurt. Plus, I'm at my due date and my cervix is very favorable for labor, so it would either nudge baby out or do nothing at all. It wasn't really that uncomfortable, and I don't feel any different than I did before except for losing some bloody show, which is expected after the stripping. I've of course done lots of Googling since I got home, and it sounds like for most women, it either gets things going in the next 24-36 hours or does nothing at all. So we'll see! I think the midwife felt better that we live so close to the hospital, so we're not putting ourselves at risk of having to brave the bad roads for a long drive if it in fact works. I have an appointment set for next Monday, when I'll be almost 41 weeks by the midwife's EDD. If I have to keep the appointment and am still pregnant at that point, we'll schedule an induction for the middle or end of next week. Neither Wes nor I, based on what we've read, are comfortable going past 42 weeks based on the best EDD, and I would prefer to induce on a Wednesday or Thursday to give me the longest stretch of time out of class and with Wes at home. I don't know why, but having this in place makes me feel better. I know I might still be pregnant next Monday, but then I'll be at my last appointment before the baby is born. Now, finally, there is an end in sight.
Tomorrow is my official due date by first trimester ultrasounds, 1-11-11. I would be very excited if she were to make her arrival then -- and if not, Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday. My sister and her husband are supposed to visit this coming weekend, and while I know they're looking forward to seeing Oliver (and maybe me and Wes a little bit), I'd feel a lot better if they got to see the baby, too.
It turns out that the receptionist had told a lot of people the same thing she told me, and so we did have to wait almost an hour to be seen. The midwife, one I hadn't seen before, was very nice and apologized for the wait. She felt my belly and said the baby wasn't especially big, which is something I was starting to worry about (especially important when you want a drug-free delivery!). Her heartbeat sounds fine, and she is, of course, still head down. She checked me again, and I'm now 3 cm dilated, well effaced, and the baby's head is right against my cervix. I did let her strip my membranes. I had mixed feelings on this going in to the appointment. I've heard both the pros and cons of having this done. Those who favor it say that except for the risk of prematurely rupturing the membranes, there are no real risks. The process basically involves separating the amniotic sac from the edge of the cervix, which releases prostaglandins, which helps initiate labor. This argument says that it won't put a woman into labor if the baby is not ready for it, and it can provide a gentle nudge to baby if she is ready and just waiting (like this one is!). Those who are opposed to it say that the risk of rupturing the membranes is very real and problematic, since it puts you "on the clock" -- meaning you have to deliver within 24 hours, even if your body wasn't really ready to go into labor. It can be uncomfortable, and it can lead to additional interventions that can lead to a c-section that would not have happened had the stripping not happened. This argument is the norm among the hands-off crowd, who basically don't want any kind of intervention at all. That said, I felt like I was okay with having it done if the midwife supported it. This practice is pretty hands-off about these things and wouldn't recommend something they didn't think was a good idea. So when the midwife mentioned it, I told her that I knew what it was but didn't have a firm opinion on it. She said she's never ruptured someone's membranes in the process and definitely felt that it couldn't hurt. Plus, I'm at my due date and my cervix is very favorable for labor, so it would either nudge baby out or do nothing at all. It wasn't really that uncomfortable, and I don't feel any different than I did before except for losing some bloody show, which is expected after the stripping. I've of course done lots of Googling since I got home, and it sounds like for most women, it either gets things going in the next 24-36 hours or does nothing at all. So we'll see! I think the midwife felt better that we live so close to the hospital, so we're not putting ourselves at risk of having to brave the bad roads for a long drive if it in fact works. I have an appointment set for next Monday, when I'll be almost 41 weeks by the midwife's EDD. If I have to keep the appointment and am still pregnant at that point, we'll schedule an induction for the middle or end of next week. Neither Wes nor I, based on what we've read, are comfortable going past 42 weeks based on the best EDD, and I would prefer to induce on a Wednesday or Thursday to give me the longest stretch of time out of class and with Wes at home. I don't know why, but having this in place makes me feel better. I know I might still be pregnant next Monday, but then I'll be at my last appointment before the baby is born. Now, finally, there is an end in sight.
Tomorrow is my official due date by first trimester ultrasounds, 1-11-11. I would be very excited if she were to make her arrival then -- and if not, Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday. My sister and her husband are supposed to visit this coming weekend, and while I know they're looking forward to seeing Oliver (and maybe me and Wes a little bit), I'd feel a lot better if they got to see the baby, too.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The watched pot
I am not in labor. Just in case anyone is wondering and might be tempted to call and ask, I just want to repeat, I am not in labor. I promise not to secretly birth and parent a child without telling friends and family. So the baby is not here yet. I am sitting at home, on my couch, in front of the television, contemplating a nap and maybe a movie later this afternoon.
I repeat, not in labor.
I repeat, not in labor.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Weigh In: Week 38
142 lbs. And still pregnant. I had a midwife's appointment on Friday. They asked if I wanted to be checked, and I said yes. Normally I don't want to know how far dilated or effaced I am. I prefer just to go with how I'm feeling as an indicator. But with the GBS and knowing I need to be there a few hours early, I wanted to know if I was starting from 0 or had made a little progress already. The midwife said I was 2 cm and soft, and the baby was low but still could come down a little. She didn't think it would be this weekend, and now that it's Saturday night, that prediction seems ever more likely. My next appointment with them is on Monday, January 10, the day before my due date, per their estimation (which puts me at 39 weeks on Tuesday). Oliver was 39 weeks based on his EDD by first trimester ultrasound, and if this one comes at the same gestational age, she would be born on my younger sister's birthday. Perhaps that's what she's waiting for.
I am a little bigger, a little rounder, a little more uncomfortable, and ever more ready for her to be here. My parents visited last Tuesday until Thursday, at which point they drove home and my mom came back on Friday to stay the weekend while Wes works overnights, just in case. I took advantage of the extra kitchen help (and, for my father, toddler-wrangling help) to do a LOT of cooking. Before Oliver was born, I made two lasagnas that we froze and ate later. This time, I went BIG. Wes and I bought a chest freezer for the garage, and I am doing my utmost to fill it. Currently there: two sausage lasagnas, two spinach lasagnas, two batches of white chicken chili, two batches of beef chili, one batch of chicken tortilla soup (the other in the refrigerator for us to eat this weekend), one black bean vegetable bake (the other in the refrigerator for later this week), and half a dozen cornbread muffins. Tomorrow ia posole day, with two batches to be frozen. That's a lot of food, people. But I think it will make a big difference in how healthy we eat over the course of this semester. I am very thankful to have had mom here to help me dice probably 16 onions, mince garlic, and chop peppers. We had the chicken tortilla soup for dinner tonight, and while I think it could use some more spice, it was pretty good (and Ollie ate and loved it, which is always a bonus). Oh, and we also made pumpkin bread today, which yielded three medium loaves, two of which have also been frozen. The chest freezer, in addition to housing these items, will likely get some frozen rolls, perhaps some pizzas, and eventually (I hope) lots of bags of breast milk.
Other than that, nothing else seems to be cooking. I keep hoping each day that I am nearing her arrival (and of course, that's always true, though not as imminently as I'd hoped). I made a lunch date with two classmates for Tuesday, and my first official class of the semester is a week from Thursday, January 12, so I do sincerely hope it's not too much longer. The good news is that her delay -- if it's even fair to call it that -- has allowed me to do all the errands, stocking up, cooking ahead, and cleaning that I could possibly do (or that is reasonable I guess, as I could always do more). Ollie has had time and attention at home. Even Lucy got a short walk today. And tonight, Wes works his last shift for the next three weeks. Seems as good a time as any, doesn't it?
Here's hoping my next Weigh In is a post-partum one!
I am a little bigger, a little rounder, a little more uncomfortable, and ever more ready for her to be here. My parents visited last Tuesday until Thursday, at which point they drove home and my mom came back on Friday to stay the weekend while Wes works overnights, just in case. I took advantage of the extra kitchen help (and, for my father, toddler-wrangling help) to do a LOT of cooking. Before Oliver was born, I made two lasagnas that we froze and ate later. This time, I went BIG. Wes and I bought a chest freezer for the garage, and I am doing my utmost to fill it. Currently there: two sausage lasagnas, two spinach lasagnas, two batches of white chicken chili, two batches of beef chili, one batch of chicken tortilla soup (the other in the refrigerator for us to eat this weekend), one black bean vegetable bake (the other in the refrigerator for later this week), and half a dozen cornbread muffins. Tomorrow ia posole day, with two batches to be frozen. That's a lot of food, people. But I think it will make a big difference in how healthy we eat over the course of this semester. I am very thankful to have had mom here to help me dice probably 16 onions, mince garlic, and chop peppers. We had the chicken tortilla soup for dinner tonight, and while I think it could use some more spice, it was pretty good (and Ollie ate and loved it, which is always a bonus). Oh, and we also made pumpkin bread today, which yielded three medium loaves, two of which have also been frozen. The chest freezer, in addition to housing these items, will likely get some frozen rolls, perhaps some pizzas, and eventually (I hope) lots of bags of breast milk.
Other than that, nothing else seems to be cooking. I keep hoping each day that I am nearing her arrival (and of course, that's always true, though not as imminently as I'd hoped). I made a lunch date with two classmates for Tuesday, and my first official class of the semester is a week from Thursday, January 12, so I do sincerely hope it's not too much longer. The good news is that her delay -- if it's even fair to call it that -- has allowed me to do all the errands, stocking up, cooking ahead, and cleaning that I could possibly do (or that is reasonable I guess, as I could always do more). Ollie has had time and attention at home. Even Lucy got a short walk today. And tonight, Wes works his last shift for the next three weeks. Seems as good a time as any, doesn't it?
Here's hoping my next Weigh In is a post-partum one!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Weigh In: Week 37 + 1
142 lbs. (Yes, that's less than last time. Evidently, horrible stomach illnesses and an ever bigger baby pushing on my stomach, which makes me not hungry, are helping me out here at the end.) And I'm term. I met with the midwife on Wednesday, who told me that I should "call if I need" them. She also said that Vanderbilt is really strict about the GBS thing and would make the baby stay for 48 hours whether she got the antibiotics during delivery or not, so we know we're looking a full 48-hour post-partum stay. Save three shifts next week, we're prepared for Wes to take full care of Oliver while I'm in the hospital, so it's important for us to know there'll be no early discharge this time. There was no vaginal exam (in my experience, they usually don't until 40 weeks), so I've no idea if there's any progress towards labor, and any dilation or effacement wouldn't be a promise of that anyway. She told me to come back in 7-10 days, so I'm scheduled for this Friday (10 days) and hoping I don't have to go! I've been having lots of Braxton Hicks contractions, which might be part of why I'm not always sleeping well, and last night I'm pretty sure I had some real contractions -- which led me to wake up thinking I might be spending the day in labor. Instead, I spent it in Wal-mart and Lowe's with Wes and Oliver. I feel, in the interest of full disclosure, that I should admit that the end of this pregnancy has not been the most fun. I preface it with that because I really and truly do not mean to complain. I have my whiny moments, but in a contemplative space like this, I'm hardly going to whine about the few discomforts that come with such a wonderful and miraculous event. Wonders and miracles aside, though, I don't want anyone to think that there isn't some discomfort with the process, or that all pregnant women feel great and go on to smooth and easy deliveries. I know that there are friends and even some extended family members who read this who are pregnant themselves, looking at what's ahead, or thinking about becoming pregnant or comparing theirs to mine, and I don't want to make it seem like it's all roses and daisies. It's worth it -- for sure. I'd put up with all again in a heartbeat for more kids. But this time around, as I've mentioned, has been harder. My sleep is mixed now. Some nights, like last night, are pretty good and I wake up feeling mostly rested. Some nights, like Christmas Eve, are bad, and I wake up feeling groggy and fatigued but simply cannot fall asleep. My back is sore, as are my hips. [TMI warning here: Read ahead at your own risk.] My breasts are tender, and there are things leaking all over the place. And to add injury to insult, I have now developed something I'd heard about when pregnant with Oliver but somehow never suffered with -- hemorrhoids. One in particular is large and terribly uncomfortable. If I spend much of the day sitting upright or standing or lifting things -- which is basically how I spend every day, all day -- I'm constantly in pain down there. I'm applying the normal salves and such for the situation, but Roy, as I've affectionately named him, has no plans on retiring until the baby comes out and removes her head from my groin. He is simply unwilling to negotiate. I'm sure it will make labor and delivery that much more fun.
That said, the biggest difference between the end of this pregnancy and the last is how ready I am to have her out. I don't know if it's because I'm uncomfortable. I mean, the first week or so after a delivery is usually not full of good rest and physical comforts, what with the healing and bleeding and the sweating and the breastfeeding. I don't know if it's because I'm not in the midst of something else that is consuming all my attention -- like teaching school, which is what I was doing last time. And, in fact, I'm actually counting down the days until I have to go back to that something else -- being in school -- and want her here for as much of that time as possible. Or most likely, it's that this time, I have some idea of what I'm looking forward to, what it's like to go through labor and delivery and see that person who's been poking her foot in my side for weeks now. What it's like to hold her and smell her and dress her. And looking forward to seeing her with her daddy and brother. I keep telling her how great they are, that she needs to come out and meet them. If a kid were ever ready for and wanting a sibling, it's Oliver. I feel no guilt about ending his days as an only child or making him "not the baby" (which he certainly is not, even without a younger sibling). And so, I wake up every morning wondering, Is today the day? Something I never went through with Oliver, even though he didn't really come early. I know, on the one hand, that she'll probably be here in the next 2 weeks. But I also know that it could still be 4 more if she were to come really late for some reason, which is scary. I don't want to hang out with Roy that long, and I really, really want to meet her.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Weigh-In: 35+2
I'm definitely feeling the third trimester. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently, and then I can't decide if I should nap in the middle of the day or hope that, if I don't, it will make me that much more sleepy at night to sleep soundly. Oliver will go to daycare all this week, so I have the option -- though my remaining schoolwork would suggest that I should skip the nap and do the work. My butt gets really sore, no matter where I sit, which I have to do a lot of to get said schoolwork done. The baby is really pushing against my pubic bones and head-butting my cervix at times. I think she's dropped because I can finally breathe a little easier, and she's definitely pressing right on my bladder. (I went to use the bathroom yesterday, and Wes just looked at me and said, "You've got to be kidding me," since I'd gone not 30 minutes prior.) The midwife last week told me that they wouldn't stop labor at this point -- maybe some IV fluids to make sure I'm not dehydrated, but nothing more. And at 37 weeks, I can stay home and labor however I want. Oliver had to come with me to that appointment. He thought it was pretty funny to see me get on the scale and lie down on the examination table, something he normally does while I watch on. I did, at the midwife's request, do a birth plan (I call it "birth preferences") since I want no separation of care after the baby is born. It's short, straightforward, and of course subject to change as situations necessitate. The midwives scan it into my file, so I guess they really do look at it when I get to the hospital for delivery.
The picture is from Friday night, when I went to Wes's work holiday party. I left him with some colleagues to enjoy himself a bit longer while I went home to relieve the babysitter and my sore belly and back after several hours of standing. I took the picture with a self-timer, hence the distant view. There's a bow right at my belly, so it makes me look a little bigger than I really am.
There's a couple inches of snow on the ground outside this morning, so Wes took Oliver to daycare because he doesn't want me driving. He's seen two 30+-week pregnant women in the emergency room recently for injuries from car accidents, and I think it's made him nervous. I think it also made him realize that we're probably going to have a baby soon. Yesterday, he asked where the car seat is for the baby and where Oliver is going while I'm in labor. It's like he suddenly realized I'm pregnant!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Big brother
Last Friday afternoon, one of my friends from a summer class came over to visit with her four-month-old daughter, Briar. I was excited to see a "little baby" again, and I was looking forward to seeing how Oliver would respond to such a young child. They got here late in the afternoon, and I actually had to wake up Oliver to come join us. He was very standoffish at first. Briar was on the floor, cooing and reaching out for Lucy's ear. (Lucy, of course, had not hesitation in joining Briar on her blanket, thank you very much.) He stood to the side for a few minutes, then sat on my lap for a few minutes before he started to smile and relax a little bit. I swear you could see the questions rolling in his head. Who is this? Why is she here? Why is she touching my dog? Is this the baby everyone's been talking about?
After about ten minutes he regained his normal composure and played around the room and showed off for Katie and Briar. They had to leave 30-40 minutes later when Briar started to tire out in preparation for her evening nap (I'd forgotten how obvious it is when a true baby gets sleepy. Oliver just gets more and more wired now!) We walked them out to the car so that we could get the mail, and Ollie got kind of upset as they left. He kept asking, "Baby go?" I tried to explain that Baby Briar and her mommy were going in their car back to their house. And several times that evening and in later days he's mentioned, "Baby go house in car."
This morning, when it was time to get up and get dressed, I let Oliver pick out his shirt (as is now the custom). He decided to wear his "big brother" shirt that Aunt Laura gifted him on his birthday. I had planned to save it for when the baby came, but Wes broke it out at some point and it since joined the rotation. Someone, probably at daycare, also taught him what the shirt says. He spent all this morning pointing to his shirt and saying, with great earnestness, "Big brother." I asked him at breakfast, "Oliver, if you're the big brother, who's the baby sister?" He looked at me and said, "Baby go house in car."
So evidently he did think that Baby Briar was the person we've been talking about, which also explains his hesitation to let her leave that day. I tried to explain to him that our baby was still in mommy and would be joining us in a few weeks. It's hard to say how much he understands, but there's obviously some connections he's making. Hopefully, when the time comes, he won't suggest sending his baby off to Briar's house in a car!
After about ten minutes he regained his normal composure and played around the room and showed off for Katie and Briar. They had to leave 30-40 minutes later when Briar started to tire out in preparation for her evening nap (I'd forgotten how obvious it is when a true baby gets sleepy. Oliver just gets more and more wired now!) We walked them out to the car so that we could get the mail, and Ollie got kind of upset as they left. He kept asking, "Baby go?" I tried to explain that Baby Briar and her mommy were going in their car back to their house. And several times that evening and in later days he's mentioned, "Baby go house in car."
This morning, when it was time to get up and get dressed, I let Oliver pick out his shirt (as is now the custom). He decided to wear his "big brother" shirt that Aunt Laura gifted him on his birthday. I had planned to save it for when the baby came, but Wes broke it out at some point and it since joined the rotation. Someone, probably at daycare, also taught him what the shirt says. He spent all this morning pointing to his shirt and saying, with great earnestness, "Big brother." I asked him at breakfast, "Oliver, if you're the big brother, who's the baby sister?" He looked at me and said, "Baby go house in car."
So evidently he did think that Baby Briar was the person we've been talking about, which also explains his hesitation to let her leave that day. I tried to explain to him that our baby was still in mommy and would be joining us in a few weeks. It's hard to say how much he understands, but there's obviously some connections he's making. Hopefully, when the time comes, he won't suggest sending his baby off to Briar's house in a car!
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Weigh-In: 33 + 5
It's December!!!
140 lbs. and 44 days until my due date. There is no mistaking I'm pregnant now, even in a bulky sweater. Another mom at daycare said, "I couldn't even tell you were pregnant" when I was in a winter coat, but I think she was just being nice. The baby's bum is up at the top of my uterus, and it's very much in the way when I bend over. Tying my shoes is troublesome. Shaving my legs is very difficult if not impossible, even sitting in a bathtub.
The nursery is completely done and looks adorable. It's fun, vibrant, to say the least. It's almost a different room with the new paint. I changed out a few basic accessories, but otherwise it's the same, just very, very different with Sea Breeze on the wall. Oliver likes to go and play with "Oliver's car" (his old walker, collapsed into a riding toy) in "baby's room." The rug even works. It doesn't match the paint, per se, but it works. I don't know that we're going to get a decorator's nod of approval for our interior design there, but we like it, which is really all that matters.
This afternoon is my tour of labor and delivery at Vanderbilt. I'm looking forward to just seeing where all this will be happening. I had been in Prentice several times before I went there for a tour and to deliver, so it didn't seem as distant a place. I've really never been in the hospital here. I even had to get directions from Wes about how to get to the meeting place for today's tour. (He is working so cannot go with me.) I do have a list made for a hospital bag, but I'm not going to pack anything ahead of time. I know that I need things to do while in labor! I have my next midwife's appointment on Tuesday. I'm hoping the baby is measuring correctly or at least four weeks further along than where I was at the last appointment. I need to ask some basic questions at this point, like who to call (if anyone) when I go into labor and am ready to go to the hospital, and at what point in the pregnancy they will let me labor at home rather than try and stop the labor. I have been having a lot of sharp pains around my cervix. I think the baby is just really low, but a few evenings I have wondered if things would be happening sooner than later.
We also hired a caregiver for next semester. Hailey is a graduate of Belmont University and currently in the MDiv program at Vanderbilt but taking a semester off to teach a class at a prison and make some decisions about whether to finish the MDiv program. She's smart, really nice, sweet with Oliver, excited to be getting a baby to care for, comfortable with part-time and sometimes strange situation (me sometimes at home, Wes sometimes asleep in the bedroom). Most importantly (and this is my advice to anyone hiring in-home help), we seem to get along well, and I feel comfortable talking to her about what we want to see happen, what we don't want, and so forth. Sometimes I think it's less important that people agree exactly on what to do with a baby and more important that they feel comfortable talking through things they arise. It was part of what I loved about Katie in Chicago. So that's taken care of, and she's set to start in mid-January on my first day of classes. If the baby has just arrived, I'll just run in for the first hour of class so I can get the syllabus and some face time. If she's been around for a few weeks, I'll try and go the whole day.
I'm still nervous, even at this point in pregnancy. I know too much. I know that getting to 34 weeks doesn't mean there aren't things, very bad things, that could still happen. Of course, a healthy delivery doesn't preclude those either. In which case, I should also be nervous about Oliver waking up each morning. In which case, I should be nervous about Wes, too. And some days I am -- all of those things. So usually I just try to take a big breath, know that I have very little control about those things, and so I should just enjoy these last weeks of this pregnancy.
For now, I'm just excited to be able to say when people ask when I'm due, "Next month."
140 lbs. and 44 days until my due date. There is no mistaking I'm pregnant now, even in a bulky sweater. Another mom at daycare said, "I couldn't even tell you were pregnant" when I was in a winter coat, but I think she was just being nice. The baby's bum is up at the top of my uterus, and it's very much in the way when I bend over. Tying my shoes is troublesome. Shaving my legs is very difficult if not impossible, even sitting in a bathtub.
The nursery is completely done and looks adorable. It's fun, vibrant, to say the least. It's almost a different room with the new paint. I changed out a few basic accessories, but otherwise it's the same, just very, very different with Sea Breeze on the wall. Oliver likes to go and play with "Oliver's car" (his old walker, collapsed into a riding toy) in "baby's room." The rug even works. It doesn't match the paint, per se, but it works. I don't know that we're going to get a decorator's nod of approval for our interior design there, but we like it, which is really all that matters.
This afternoon is my tour of labor and delivery at Vanderbilt. I'm looking forward to just seeing where all this will be happening. I had been in Prentice several times before I went there for a tour and to deliver, so it didn't seem as distant a place. I've really never been in the hospital here. I even had to get directions from Wes about how to get to the meeting place for today's tour. (He is working so cannot go with me.) I do have a list made for a hospital bag, but I'm not going to pack anything ahead of time. I know that I need things to do while in labor! I have my next midwife's appointment on Tuesday. I'm hoping the baby is measuring correctly or at least four weeks further along than where I was at the last appointment. I need to ask some basic questions at this point, like who to call (if anyone) when I go into labor and am ready to go to the hospital, and at what point in the pregnancy they will let me labor at home rather than try and stop the labor. I have been having a lot of sharp pains around my cervix. I think the baby is just really low, but a few evenings I have wondered if things would be happening sooner than later.
We also hired a caregiver for next semester. Hailey is a graduate of Belmont University and currently in the MDiv program at Vanderbilt but taking a semester off to teach a class at a prison and make some decisions about whether to finish the MDiv program. She's smart, really nice, sweet with Oliver, excited to be getting a baby to care for, comfortable with part-time and sometimes strange situation (me sometimes at home, Wes sometimes asleep in the bedroom). Most importantly (and this is my advice to anyone hiring in-home help), we seem to get along well, and I feel comfortable talking to her about what we want to see happen, what we don't want, and so forth. Sometimes I think it's less important that people agree exactly on what to do with a baby and more important that they feel comfortable talking through things they arise. It was part of what I loved about Katie in Chicago. So that's taken care of, and she's set to start in mid-January on my first day of classes. If the baby has just arrived, I'll just run in for the first hour of class so I can get the syllabus and some face time. If she's been around for a few weeks, I'll try and go the whole day.
I'm still nervous, even at this point in pregnancy. I know too much. I know that getting to 34 weeks doesn't mean there aren't things, very bad things, that could still happen. Of course, a healthy delivery doesn't preclude those either. In which case, I should also be nervous about Oliver waking up each morning. In which case, I should be nervous about Wes, too. And some days I am -- all of those things. So usually I just try to take a big breath, know that I have very little control about those things, and so I should just enjoy these last weeks of this pregnancy.
For now, I'm just excited to be able to say when people ask when I'm due, "Next month."
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
You might be pregnant if...
Wes and I had late lunch at a bar and grill in Hillsboro Village this afternoon since he is working until midnight tonight and Oliver was off at daycare. We asked to be seated at a booth since the place was virtually empty, but we quickly realized we would need to switch to a table. I didn't fit on my side of the booth.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Which one?
I'm having a really hard time choosing a paint color for the nursery. The pale yellow currently the wall just doesn't seem to fit the room. There's clearly a theme of primary colors, so I want a rich color, but I'm a little worried about it being too dark. The furniture, trim, and floors are all light colors, so that might not be the problem I think it is, but it's hard to know until the whole room is painted.
Here are the colors in the room right now:
Help!
Update: I couldn't sleep last night and had paint samples going through my brain. I think, in my not-sleep, I decided that Sea Breeze would look good, and sure enough I like both it and Island Blue very much. Just have to decide between the two!
Here are the colors in the room right now:
We tried another brand in a color similar to Dahlia (top left) first, along with a Billiard Green, but the yellow was too much, and still not enough of a contrast, and the green was too dark. Then I got samples of Iolite (top middle) and Balsam (top right), and I love both the colors, but I'm worried about them being too dark in a whole room. Perhaps something like Sea Breeze (bottom left) or Island Blue (bottom middle)? I tried Pail (bottom right) also, but it wasn't enough different than Iolite to make a difference.
Help!
Update: I couldn't sleep last night and had paint samples going through my brain. I think, in my not-sleep, I decided that Sea Breeze would look good, and sure enough I like both it and Island Blue very much. Just have to decide between the two!
Weigh-In: Week 31 + 5
I take a tour of the L&D in two weeks. Somehow the thought of just being in that space is exciting.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Weigh-In: Week 30 + 1
138.5 lbs. The baby is supposed to be about 3 1/2 pounds and 17 inches right now, and while sometimes that doesn't seem possible, other times it seems entirely likely given the kicks I can feel on my right side from time to time. She gets a foot in there, and I push on it, and she begrudgingly moves around. I am much relieved to be home from my travels, as I slept poorly in Vegas, even surrounded by 6 pillows. Hopefully, the next night I spend away from home will be one in the hospital.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Weigh-In: Week 29
137 lbs. or somewhere thereabouts. I feel like my belly is going to burst. I don't remember feeling this big with Oliver. My belly button is disappearing.
Times like these make me wish I were a lion or a sheep and really glad I'm not an elephant. It's not that I mind being pregnant -- bursting belly and all -- just that I can't wait to meet her.
Times like these make me wish I were a lion or a sheep and really glad I'm not an elephant. It's not that I mind being pregnant -- bursting belly and all -- just that I can't wait to meet her.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Weigh-In: Week 27+6
135.5 lbs. I do not have gestational diabetes. My glucose blood level was 83. The nurse said that I should look for a number under 135. Evidently, I'm okay there. My blood pressure is that of a normal 9-year-old: 98/60. "Is it normally that low?" the nurse asked me. And, just as a reminder that nothing is ever quite like the first pregnancy (read: much more pressure, much more sciatic pain, much earlier with this pregnancy), I've been having clearly discernible Braxton Hicks contractions the last day or two.
On another note, I'm really looking forward to the nursery rug coming soon. It was backordered, but the company charged the credit card, which I'm hoping means it's on its way soon, if not already. I'm still hemming and hawing about painting the room a different color (hopefully over Thanksgiving break in only six weeks!!!), but I don't want to decide either way until the rug is here. I also think I found a rug for Oliver's room that is the right colors, kind of kid-cute but not overly so. I wish it were wool and not Olefin, but that does mean it's (maybe) a bit more durable and certainly a bit cheaper. The baby gate at the bottom of the stairs came down yesterday. I fell over the thing in May, which bent it badly, and it's never been quite the same since then. I have stumbled into it when it didn't open right several times since then, and Wes admits to having tripped over it also. A few days ago I noticed it wouldn't even latch, so we decided to take it down. Ollie is really good on the stairs now, and while he could still have an accident, it seems like we're just going to risk it. He's much more likely to be able to catch himself if he stumbled or at least stop his fall. The gate at the top of the stairs is staying so that he doesn't try to wander downstairs in a sleepy haze, should he get out of his room one night. (And, more likely but less importantly, that keeps Lucy from going upstairs unsupervised and, say, peeing on the bathroom rug or eating dirty disposable diapers out of the trashcan.) We'll have to replace the downstairs gate when the new baby starts crawling, but that could almost a year out still. So for now, we're enjoying the relative ease and nicer appearance of the gateless stairway.
On another note, I'm really looking forward to the nursery rug coming soon. It was backordered, but the company charged the credit card, which I'm hoping means it's on its way soon, if not already. I'm still hemming and hawing about painting the room a different color (hopefully over Thanksgiving break in only six weeks!!!), but I don't want to decide either way until the rug is here. I also think I found a rug for Oliver's room that is the right colors, kind of kid-cute but not overly so. I wish it were wool and not Olefin, but that does mean it's (maybe) a bit more durable and certainly a bit cheaper. The baby gate at the bottom of the stairs came down yesterday. I fell over the thing in May, which bent it badly, and it's never been quite the same since then. I have stumbled into it when it didn't open right several times since then, and Wes admits to having tripped over it also. A few days ago I noticed it wouldn't even latch, so we decided to take it down. Ollie is really good on the stairs now, and while he could still have an accident, it seems like we're just going to risk it. He's much more likely to be able to catch himself if he stumbled or at least stop his fall. The gate at the top of the stairs is staying so that he doesn't try to wander downstairs in a sleepy haze, should he get out of his room one night. (And, more likely but less importantly, that keeps Lucy from going upstairs unsupervised and, say, peeing on the bathroom rug or eating dirty disposable diapers out of the trashcan.) We'll have to replace the downstairs gate when the new baby starts crawling, but that could almost a year out still. So for now, we're enjoying the relative ease and nicer appearance of the gateless stairway.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Weigh-In: Week 27+2
135 lbs. And it's finally the third trimester!!! I feel like this pregnancy has been going by so slowly, but this gives me hope that soon enough I'll be meeting my baby girl on the outside. She really seems to be getting crowded in there, which has me concerned since she has somewhere around 13 more weeks of growing left. I'm not sure how she's going to fit in there, or how my belly is going to feel at that point. I can already feel body parts, and when she rolls around my whole abdomen moves. I commented to my mom this weekend how strange it is to become used to having a person living inside me. Sometimes I think, "Oh, gas bubbles," and then I'm like, "Oh, no, that's a child in there." Craziness.
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