Sunday, August 21, 2011

Drops of Encouragement from the Leaky B@@b

Yesterday Ash had three bottles in addition to his eight nursing sessions, that's the most times I've had to supplement in a day since he was born five months ago. For the past two weeks I've begun to feel really discouraged, my supply has once again become a stuggle. It's so confusing for something so natural and neccessary to be so hard.

This morning I woke up to this blog post by the Leaky B@@b in my news feed, and it was just the encouragement I needed. While Ash is no longer a newborn, it was a good reminder of how much wisdom God has put in those tiny little bodies. I was feeling frustrated and disconnected from Ash, and beginning to feel impatient with our feedings. Babies know what they need. When the first mother held the first baby in her arms there were no doctors, no books, no experts, no articles, no statistics, and no advice. Just a woman listening to her baby and responding to his needs. This post is a good reminder that mommies and babies didn't just happen, we were designed.

For mommies trying hard to understand:
Baby Explains - Normal Newborn Behavior

Ash, 5 months old

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Tap... Tap... Face Punch.

Sometimes it's in a sermon.
Sometimes it's in a song.
Sometimes it's from a fellow blogger.
Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere...

I don't know about you, but I require a certain number of face punches from life each year to keep me on track. I need to be shaken, I need "You are being an ass!" screamed in my face, and if I don't listen I need shitty things to happen to me until I do. Taps from God don't typically work... face punches do every once in a while...

I of course had to tune in to the final episode of the Oprah Winfrey Show. I wasn't overly emotional about her departure. I enjoyed the show but sometimes I thought Oprah was kinda crazy, that she pushed some obscure false spirituality, the kind people like Madonna subscribe to. But over the course of her final season I was feeling very drawn in by her. I felt myself getting little "pay attention" taps on my head and little "listen up" whispers. But... I don't do self help gurus. I don't need "Ah ha" moments. I don't need fixing... at least not til I'm broken down on the side of the road... this coming from the girl who has actually ran out of gas in front of gas stations 3 times.

This wasn't a tap... and my car didn't break down... it blew up.

“You are responsible for the energy you bring into this space.”
I am totally irresponsible with my energy. My personality is such that I get very full of myself very fast, I forget others have feelings, or if I do remember I forget I'm supposed to care. Even when I am aware of what a pain in the ass I am being, I feel that someone else is responsible for it. It's always a little embarrassing when it takes so long to really get something so obvious. I'm sure God has been trying to deliver that one to me for a while...

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

My Mommy Body Tantrum

If you don't want to hear me throw a toddler worthy fit over my post baby body, go ahead and skip this post. I've been holding this back for a few weeks now, because who wants to take precious time out of their day to read five paragraphs of whining and complaints... well... hopefully you do.

We all know that no one loves what their body looks like just after having a baby, it's an absolute mess. Stretch marks and saggy skin don't exactly spell sexy... actually, I might be able to find the word sexy in my elaborate web of stretch marks... but you know what I mean. I don't love the wreckage Milo and Ash have left in their wake, but I've accepted it. What I can't accept is the fat that my body insists on holding on to no matter what I do. It's awful, and I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to shed it.

Yes I've heard it takes 9 months to gain the weight and 9 months to take it off... and I know I just gave birth to two gorgeous little boys less than 18 months apart and I should be happy with my body and its amazing ability to give life. The power of that is not lost on me. However, I don't feel like this body is the one I deserve. I go out for a run, I feel strong and amazing and I get home, look in the mirror, and the person I see doesn't look like she could get up a flight of stairs let alone though 90 minutes of intense cardio.

I feel I'm doing so much "right" when it comes to fitness, but I'm enjoying none of the benefits. I'm obsessed with MyFitnessPal and I count all my calories. I'm training for my first half marathon, so I run 15-20 miles a week plus I do other cardio like kickboxing, walking with the kids and hiking. But I don't fit in any of my clothes and the scale has not budged in 7 weeks. It's like spending months carefully tending a garden but not getting a single bloom, fruit, or vegetable for your labor. It's absolutely unfair!

I know nursing is holding me back from reaching my weight loss goal. I struggled with this while nursing Milo, but I somehow convinced myself that it wouldn't happen again. My doctor said that my body will not let me tap into my fat stores because it is preparing for a famine. Awesome. I believe my body is also preparing for a flood because right now I would make an excellent floatation device.

I guess I should appreciate that I have a body that prepares for the worst, but I really rather have a body that prepares for swim suit season. I know I'll lose the weight when I wean Ash, when I weaned Milo I lost 15 pounds in 2 weeks. I wish I could be rewarded right now for my hard work and not feel punished for my dedication to giving my son the best food for him. I can't say anything more eloquent about it than it sucks and I hate it.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Toddler Milestone: Coloring on the Wall, Status: Acheived

When Eric finished painting our newly retextured walls I knew there would come a day when we would be scrubbing crayon off them. I know Eric didn't think our children would ever do anything so destructive, but as someone who has spent most of her adult life caring for young children, I know if there is a child and a crayon in the same room... that crayon is going to end up on a wall.

To save our perfectly painted, not scrubbing friendly walls from toddler destruction, crayons live in the sun room where there is only wood paneling (classy) and glass. However, last night a crayon somehow stowed away into the living room, and with Eric and I sitting just feet away, it met wall. I thought that when this finally happened I would be mad, put Milo in time-out (which we've never used) and firmly scold him so he would never do it again. That's not what happened.

I laughed, but tried to get out a stern "no no." I got the camera and had Milo stand next to his art work, he was so proud, I just couldn't help myself. If he was a more rebellious kid then maybe I would have been more stern, but he's the type of little boy that will usually burst into tears at a disapproving look from me. When I do discipline him over doing something off limits, like climbing on the hearth, he never does it again. So hopefully he doesn't draw on the wall again... but getting that moment of him being so proud of his work is worth having crayon on the wall.

I've included pictures of the artist and his work, plus you can get a bonus video of Milo showing off his sweet vocab and artwork HERE!

So... who knows how to get crayon off walls... seriously...

Milo is 19 months old.

Sunday, June 5, 2011


Hi my name is Cori... and I think I'm addicted to pregnancy.

From the moment I tear open the test to hearing my new baby's first cry, the entire pregnancy/birth experience is a high for me. After Ash was born I thought we might wait a little longer for another, maybe a year. We planned to space out babies using natural family planning, but since I am breastfeeding full time I didn't expect to ovulate any time soon any way. Suddenly, at 7 weeks postpartum I started bleeding... I thought I had injured myself and saw my midwife. I felt a lot like a 12 year old little girl as I was being told it looked like it was just my period. My midwife didn't know it but she had just lit this crack whore's pipe... I knew if I was fertile then there was no way I would be able to control my need for another pregnancy and I marked my calendar for day 14 in my cycle.

As I checked off the days til Pee-Day (pregnancy test day!) I had plenty of time to consider whether I'm just addicted to pregnancy tests (if so, I am not alone, google it), if I just liked the attention of being pregnant, or if I really wanted another baby. I read about other "bumpoholics" to see if I a passion or a problem.

The pregnancy tests I definitely think I'm addicted to. For days (weeks actually) I am looking forward to that test. Even when I know I'm pregnant already I'm still tempted to keep taking them, I just love that line. Jill at Baby Rabies blogged this week about how in that minute between peeing on the stick and seeing that line you know whether or not you truly want a baby or not. I have never spent that minute not hoping for two lines.

As for loving the attention a bump brings, I don't think that's it. All the reading I did talked about mothers using pregnancy to fill a void (octo mom anyone?), to have something to talk about, and to feed their self esteem. I have plenty to say and I'm not shy about it, I don't need a belly or a baby to break the ice. My only self esteem issue is that I think I'm so awesome that I need to fill the world with more little me's.

So today was Pee-day. I had my minute of refection. Do I really want to do this? I know, shouldn't I be asking that before actually doing it? If that second line appears it means 14 weeks of puking in front of my house (fave puking spot in case you missed my last pregnancy), 40 weeks of gaining and abstaining (from alcohol that is), and who knows how many hours of labor, pushing, bleeding... uuuhhhhhhh... uuhhhh.... YEP! Yes I definitely want to do this ALL again and I want that baby, STAT! Line line line line... damnit no line.

That's ok, I think the number one reason why I'm not shipping myself to baby rehab is that I am thrilled with my life right now as it is. Trying to conceive again is like the icing on an already perfect cake or the cinnamon on my fave latte. We are fine without it but it makes things just a little more exciting... so only 28 or so more days til another Pee-day :)

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Spring Cleaning

Time for some spring cleaning... I know it's almost summer (I actually count June 1st as the start of summer so lets just call this summer) but I just had a baby so MY spring was a blur of breastfeeding, burping, blow-outs and just enough sleep in between to keep me from seriously losing it. But we made it through baby bootcamp and now Ash is pretty much on schedule so I can do just a little more than merely survive.

The plan for today was to go for a run and then go a hike with the fam but it's a stormy mess outside so I think I'll spend the day putting my blog back together. I don't know what happened to my background and my header looks more suited for fall. Out with the old and in with some much needed new!

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Breastfeeding in Public is Offensive

I've seen people sharing this and I think it's great. Mmmmm hypocrisy. My fave. I pulled this off of Analytical Armadillo, though the original source is unknown. Personally, I'm just pro boob be it feeding a baby or selling a beer, chill out everyone.

I’m thankful for not having boobs thrown in my face all the time by offensive and indecent breastfeeding mothers like the one below:

Wait… Well, this is a bad example. Let’s try again.

Hmm… Just a minute. I’m sure I can find better ones than these…

Eh, still not offensive enough. I’ll check one more time.

That is better. LOOK AT THAT! I see about a half inch of boob!

UGH. Look at that indecency!

Now that’s just…There are no words to describe how inappropriate that is. Something needs to be done!
But why stop at breastfeeding women? There are boobs everywhere. Beware! If you thought the above photos were offensive, you WILL DEFINITELY be offended by the photos below.

Not this one though. This one was in plain view on news stands and in mail boxes in 19 countries world wide!

Not this one, either. This one actually won an award!

Oh, and I guess this one is fine too. Everyone knows you can’t sell jeans without someone being topless.

Or beer, for that matter.

Or sunglasses.

Or movie tickets.

Or CDs…

You know what? Maybe I’m crazy, but I think that someone mixed up some photos here. The first batch are offensive, but the second batch are just fine?

People who live in glass bras...

Shouldn’t throw stones.

If you think women have the right to breastfeed their children no matter where they are, please repost this… comment, vote it popular whatever. Support breastfed babies and their right to eat in public!

No Creative Title...

I haven't been blogging lately, I hope you all noticed and missed me. At first I was just busy with a newborn who only slept for 40-90 minutes at a time. Then I felt uninspired. Then I began to wonder if anyone even reads my posts anymore. Then I wanted to get rid of our computer all together because I felt like it made us unproductive... And by then writing wasn't a habit anymore and if you write, you know the more you do it the easier it is... like working out... if you stop, starting again makes you feel how out of shape you are so you avoid it... and it's amazing how out of shape you can get in two months. Proof: I'm typing with a zillion ellipses which is how I type when I'm being lazy. Time to get back into shape and let you all know what we've been up to.

Baby Ash
So much to share about baby Ash. I last posted just after his birth, which I hadn't even really processed yet. I've now processed. I talked to Eric and my midwife about the birth from their perspectives (both thought I did an amazing job) and I have seen video (which I will eventually share once Eric edits it) of me working through contractions. I know that labor was amazing. I loved working through contractions, I felt completely in control and safe. Pushing, however, was fast, furious, and frightening. I wondered if I wanted to do that again, I was afraid every birth would be like that. My midwife said her births were all different. Some were just like mine, but some (at the pushing stage) were more relaxed. That was comforting.

I didn't feel an immediate satisfaction in reaching my goal of a natural child birth like I expected, but my recovery made it all worth it. I was barely sore just days after the birth, compared to weeks of pain after Milo's birth. And it did feel great to know that everything happened just as God and nature intended. I'm so fascinated by how our bodies work, and whether easy or hard, I needed to know how natural labor felt. I'm a curious person and I can't imagine going my whole life without experiencing that, to basically be left out of a very important club. And because I'm curious about what the next birth will be like (and because I appreciate easy recoveries and happy, alert babies) we will plan to have the next baby naturally too.

Not only have I been able to process the birth but I have had plenty of time to get to know this wonderful new baby. Ash has been my lesson in humility. Milo came home sleeping through the night and never fussed... not rarely... never. He also slept almost anywhere. Ash slept for short periods of time, mainly in my arms. Sweet... for the first 72 hours. Long story short, he's sleeping in our bed, I'm wearing him, I'm doing whatever I have to do to keep him happy and get some rest. My rules are being tossed out the window left and right. I had wondered if the people who co-slept and wore their babies did so because of the their own temperaments or the baby's. Could be both, but for us it has been Ash who has determined how we care for him. He is clear about his needs and who are we to deny him? It's all very interesting to me, oh and humbling, because part of me thought Milo was this easy baby because I was such an amazing mom. I might still be amazing, but not amazing enough to change a baby's temperament.

Ash has started to sleep a little longer at night, perhaps a full night's sleep is on the horizon! He soothes himself by sucking his thumb and loves his activity mat. So, a couple months of being a co-sleeping, baby wearing mama didn't produce a clingy baby like a feared. See I admit when I'm wrong (mark your calendar, it doesn't happen often).

Oh more humility! I was never sore with Milo, of course because I was so good at breastfeeding! Or so I thought. With Ash I was in agony for two weeks, and on top of that Ash was having allergic reactions to various food that I was eating. Again, I am grateful for the challenge (though not for Ash's discomfort!). Now I know what cracked, bleeding nipples feel like. I have now had a baby who has a poor latch. I have had a baby that nurses continuously. I've even experienced dysphoric milk ejaculation reflex (d-mer) which basically makes you want to throw your baby while you nurse it, so awesome. Now I've had a frustrating nursing relationship and felt the desire to quit! But now I can help other women who are experiencing those feelings! I still believe these are no excuse to quit. I'm glad I can tell other women "I've been there, it gets better!" Ash is now a pro at the breast and I can be satisfied knowing I persevered in doing what's best for him.

Milo & Ash

Milo is pretty oblivious to Ash. Ash sleeps mainly in his car seat and if he is fussing Milo will walk over and start rocking the car seat to quiet him down. Sometimes he will take Ash a toy and walk away, but that's about it. Oh but Milo is very aware of when I am breastfeeding! When I'm tied down with Ash is when he bolts for the first off limits activity he spots, pushing buttons on the baby swing or sneaking into the dining room. Other than that, no signs of jealousy which is great. Definitely a huge benefit of having babies close together!

All About Milo
Milo is getting to be such a big boy! He is so tall, 35 inches at his 18 month appointment (and 30 pounds!). He still isn't talking much, he knows quite a few words but he is stingy with them. He says no (what toddler doesn't!), hi, uh oh, yeah, dada, mama, night night, thank you, eye, woof woof, bebe, booberry, cracker, cheese, quack quack, and he attempts cock-a-doodle doo, which is sooo cute by the way. Of course when family is around his lips are sealed!

One of the most fun parts of having a toddler is seeing how he mimics us. Milo does the cutest things, like grabbing the boppy and a baby doll and "nursing" it. He's great with the bunnies, he's very gentle. He's also all boy though, and finds stuff to crawl on top of and get into all the time.

Well I think that's enough of an update for now! Summer is nearly here and I'm sure I will have many awesome adventures to share, along with some new parenting lessons I'm sure.

Milo is 19 months old and Ashley is almost 12 weeks old.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Ashley Caleb's Birth Story

On March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day, around 8:30am, just before I thought I would pass out or tear in two, or both… I thought: “Someone lied about this natural birth thing! If I live, I will track them down and kill them!!!”

I lived, but I'm strangely less motivated to murder with this beautiful little boy in my arms. I will, however, certainly inflict the most truthful account of Ash's birth on all of you. You are welcome.

Eric and I have spent almost every day for 21 months preparing for a natural birth. We began when I was pregnant with Milo. All of our energy the last trimester of our pregnancy with him was spent researching and preparing to reach our goal of an unmediated birth through the Bradley method. Instead, Milo's birth was induced and highly medicalized thanks to complications from gestational diabetes. As soon as I recovered I began working towards our goal once again. I dedicated myself to a strict exercise regimen and diet to help start this pregnancy at a lower weight and hopefully avoid diabetes, and continued with it throughout the pregnancy. I watched dozens of birth videos, poured over birth stories, and followed bloggers that I thought would help us be successful. Eric and I researched local hospitals, obstetricians, and midwives, re-read the Bradley books, and studied every birth documentary we could get our hands on. There was no reason why we should not reach our goal this time.

When I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes this time we knew we may face an induction, but our midwife was confidant we would not be facing an IV-Pitocin-epidural birth experience like last time. I stayed active, took the herbs she suggested, and by 35 weeks my cervix was already dilating and very soft. We had a decent chance of nudging labor along if necessary. At my 38 week appointment on Tuesday, March 15th, I was 2-3 cm dilated and had been having long periods of contractions that were slightly more impressive than typical Braxton-hicks. My midwife stripped my membranes, though she said it would likely not work this time because she couldn't reach well. I believed her as I barely felt it. We would do it again next week.

Must be an old midwife jedi mind/uterus trick to ensure it will work.

I felt very little cramping and had no spotting that evening. Sure that I would not be having the baby this week, I went ahead and ignored my half packed bags again that night.

On Wednesday the 16th, I woke up at 6:30am for daycare and felt like someone had hit me with a baseball bat in the lower abdomen about 1000 times, then once in the head for good measure. My uterus was suspiciously silent though, not a single contraction. Calm before the storm? Or did we just piss it off by poking around at it?

After stumbling around in pain all morning, at around 11:30am I started losing a ton of bloody mucus. It was nothing like what I imagined, a little mucus and maybe some spotting. It was pink and purple chunks of mucus and who knows what else, and it just kept coming. I sat in the bathroom in shock. This had to be the bloody show. Oh God. We are not ready. I played chicken with my uterus and now I'm going to lose.

I'm not sure how to describe what happened next. It was almost like my brain turned into a computer compiling everything that HAD to happen before this baby arrived. Ninety percent of what I came up with probably didn't have to happen, like washing the sunroom windows or cleaning under the bed, but for me they were mandatory prerequisites to labor. The next 6 hours were a whirl wind of cleaning products, contractions and sheer panic. I never slowed long enough to time contractions, I needed to out run them. I assigned jobs to Eric until I felt he wasn't taking my urgency seriously. I knew I looked crazy, I knew organizing the entry closet was not a real priority, but in my world, right then, it all had to happen. I started crying and told him to get out. He still helped but just stayed out of my way.

By around 7:30pm I was spent. I showered and settled on the couch to see if my contractions were regular. They were 7 to 15 minutes apart, not painful, but a little pinchy. Four hours later I still did not fully believe this was it, I decided to go to bed to see if the contractions would stop. I laid there for 2 hours and while they slowed, they did not stop and could not be slept through. I gave up at 1:30am. I told Eric he should try to sleep and went back to timing.

When contractions were 5-8 minutes apart I was having to stop almost everything to breathe through them and sometimes lean against a wall. I woke Eric up and told him to call my mom and take Milo to her. This was it! Oh but first we had sex because who knew when we would get to again.

Eric got Milo ready and left for my mom's and I got in the shower to shave my legs and wash my hair. I thought contractions might be nearing 3 minutes apart, but I would rather have this baby in the shower than go to the hospital before I shave my legs. I think the biggest lesson of the day was that I have no concept of priority when I'm in labor.

I finished getting ready just as Eric got home. Contractions were even more intense now, but I still made him stop and take some last belly pictures before leaving the house at 6:00am.

On the way to the car I had a strong contraction that radiated down my thighs and I had to moan through it. It was amazing to me that they could get so strong, but that they just went away after. It was nothing like my Pitocin induction. This was like a million little battles and I was winning them all so far! I called the hospital on the way and told them I was in labor. I answered questions between contractions. I noticed that my body was beginning to push with them. If I tried to not push it hurt so bad, so I just let my body do it's thing. I could still breathe through them and I wouldn't consider them unbearable so I knew there was no way I was transitioning. The woman on the phone said it may be early for me to be coming in, but since I was already on my way to come in anyway. It was discouraging, I didn't want to face a whole day of contractions like this, but I tried to not think about it.

We got to the Dominican Hospital soon before 7:00am. I had to stop twice from the car to the front doors of the hospital for contractions, and two more times from the doors to our room. It took me forever to change into my gown between contractions. I was starting to feel a little panicked. These were a lot of work. I had to grab onto stuff and breathe and moan, but the staff was treating me like I was in early labor. I paced between contractions and leaned against the wall during, relaxing everything and letting my body press down. The nurse was so nice, she was very up beat and I felt silly working so hard in front of her. I was sure she was thinking “Wow if you think this is hard…” But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t sit either, I felt like I was sitting on his head. I got on my knees at the foot of the bed for a few contractions, which were now making my whole body shake. I was still answering questions about my medical history and such. I finally asked “should I feel like I need to push?” The nurse’s look should have been answer enough, “Um… no.”

She had me get up on the bed and checked my cervix. All she could feel was my bag of water bulging through, so she got the charge nurse. The charge nurse checked me and then grabbed an OB who confirmed, I was 9 cm dilated. I could not believe it! It was like winning the lottery! That's it, I'm almost done, I did the hard part already! According to Bradley, labor is hard work, transition is the worst, but when you are pushing you are finally getting to do something and I remember several women in the books stopping between pushing contractions and saying "Oh I like this better." YEAH! Let me push!

She had me get up on the bed and checked my cervix. All she could feel was my bag of water bulging through, so she got the charge nurse. The charge nurse checked me and then grabbed an OB who confirmed, I was 9 cm dilated. I could not believe it! It was like winning the lottery! That’s it, I’m almost done, I did the hard part already! According to Bradley, labor is hard work, transition is the worst, but when you are pushing you are finally getting to do something and I remember several women in the books stopping between pushing contractions and saying “Oh I like this better.” YEAH! Let me push!

My midwife finally came in but I was barely aware. I was just trying to survive. I was getting scared, everything was moving too fast. The nurses were excited. "Ok let's have this baby!" "This will go so fast!" And many comments on how calm I was, the "calmest 9 cm I've ever seen" one nurse said. I didn't know what to say, I appreciated their enthusiasm and compliments, but I was beginning to lose it. No where near calm. I suppose I was calm the way a deer staring down headlights is calm.

Everyone prepared for my midwife to break my water, and the moment she did my body started to bear down. I can't emphasize enough how involuntary this pushing was, or the immense power behind it. It was like I was exploding from the inside, only there was a bowling ball keeping it all in and all that pressure was behind it.

In that first horrible moment, a thousand thoughts came to me at once, like a really fucked up enlightenment. First I was pissed off at Bradley for writing that awful book and making me believe that I could do this. This was SO FUCKING BAD! Who were those evil women who said pushing wasn't so bad, just hard work, and actually chatted between pushes? Who could possibly encourage anyone else to do this and not go straight to hell?

I was hating them all, I was livid that I had been fooled... then I realized that it was too late. I had to push and I couldn't fight this. It was going to hurt and it was going to suck, but I took a breath and pushed with everything I had for what felt like an eternity. It was terrifying, I couldn't stop to breathe anymore. I thought I was going to pass out. I was sure the baby was stuck and I was going to die. Everyone kept saying he was right there and to push a little harder and finally, when I thought there was no harder, I gave just a little more and his head popped out. A second passed, no relief, my body bore down again and I pushed with it. It was so hard to push through something that hurt so much but I did anyway and he wriggled out and they placed him on my belly. It was 8:32am, Ashley Caleb was here. He weighed 8 pounds and was 21 1/2 inches long.

Someone told me to open my eyes and I reached down to grab him. I just kept saying that I couldn't believe he was here. They gave him a little oxygen because he was purple, but he never left my arms. I kissed him and was just so happy to finally be holding him.

I pushed out the placenta and the nurses all gathered around it because it was so big and had all these extra lobes. I hadn't torn at all. I was bleeding quite a bit so I was given Pitocin, Cytotec, and they massaged my uterus for quite some time.

I was so happy, but at the same time I was in shock over what had just happened. I was trying to decide how I felt about it all. I thought I would feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment over having given birth naturally, but I didn't. I couldn't believe I had put myself through that voluntarily. I wasn't sure I could ever do it again. I could tell from everyone around me that I had done a good job. Eric was beaming. I overheard a nurse say "What a great birth to start the day with!" And Ash, who had still never left my arms and was now happily nursing, was healthy and staring up at me with bright clear eyes.

I have decided that it was hard, but I brought him into this world the safest way possible. I took no risks with his health or mine. Physically, I felt amazing very soon after. No soreness or pain or medications to get out of my system. I have a lot to share about our hospital stay and my recovery, but you will just have to wait for another post because right now I have a hungry little baby to tend to.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Baby II Week 37 & 38: This was fun, we can stop now.

So I just haven't felt like blogging much; honestly, I'm getting to the point where doing anything at all is a huge deal. I'm barely exercising, which hasn't been great for my blood sugar. I've been cooking only a couple times week, Eric is eating a lot of sandwiches. I'm slowly moving into fall apart mode. Emotionally I'm great, but my body is mess. Baby will not get off my sciatic nerve and I spend a lot of time limping and cursing. At 38 weeks exactly I began swelling. Feet, face, hands... I know where this is going and it just gets uglier and uglier. This is when I consider throwing myself a flight of stairs, nothing from this point til birth is flattering or fun. I believe that it is at this point that Eric also considers throwing me down a flight of stairs. Thank God we don't have stairs.

I have now dilated to a 2-3 cm and today I had my membranes stripped. I bet Eric loved the part when the midwife pulled her hand out and spread her fingers to show off all the blood and mucus. If you know what mucus plug looks like, you know how gross this is. This wasn't our regular midwife, and we hope we don't get her on d-day. She is very nice, but she referred to Pitocin as a vitamin and said we can't video tape the birth if she is delivering. Lame. Fortunately if we do induce, we will definitely have our midwife.

So speaking of the induction, if we do it will be on the 28th, which is great because it goes a long with my obsession with 28. Hopefully I go into labor on my own though, I really would love for my water to break all dramatic!

I am having lots of contractions, sometimes they are very regular (15 min apart for 5 hours one day) and intense. I didn't feel them this much last time and they give me hope that I will be able to go into labor on my own, or at least be able to be induced more easily.

We took our maternity/family portraits. We tried and JCPenney's and after they made us wait 45 minutes and then couldn't even get a decent shot of Milo (tip: toddlers don't sit for the camera and smile! What photographer doesn't know this?) so we just left. My wonderful aunt took these, she is so talented. Here are my favorites, sorry there are so many!

I'm 37 weeks and 6 days here. I've gained 30 pounds. No I don't want to talk about it.