Thursday, December 31, 2009

The next time she'll find herself in a laundry basket will probably be college. And there will be vodka involved.

Calling this the daily cuteness is a false promise, but it's something to strive for.  When the laundry's gotta go downstairs and she doesn't want to be left alone, this is her only option.  She doesn't seem to mind.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The breast pump excuse.

Sometimes I pump just so I can surf the internet.  So that, if my husband stumbles out of the bedroom to pee (he works odd hours, and thus sleeps odd hours) he sees that I am pumping, not that I am playing on the internet.  So that, when he gets home, the whir of the breastpump can distract him from the fact that the house is still messy.  He's a good man, I'm not sure that he cares either way, but it makes me feel better.

It's ironic, then, how much of an inconvenience pumping is when I actually need to get work done.  I return to work in about 3 weeks and I am/not looking forward to it.  I miss adults.  But I know I will miss my baby.  I have yet to figure out my pumping strategy.  I think it may my happen in the bathroom (gross, you say).  But there's probably only about 5 women who use our restroom, and there's a little couch in there on which ladies chat on their cell phones, so that I get to hear about their cat while a take a crap.  I plan to strike up a conversation with everyone who comes in to use the restroom while I'm pumping. 

Which  reminds me of a story.  (I try to keep these posts short, but this is a good one.)  When I was a sophomore in high school I attended the homecoming dance with a guy I wasn't very into.  I had agreed to go with him weeks before the dance, and was very disappointed when the guy I actually liked asked me a week before the dance and I had to say no.

So while I was at dinner with guy-I-wasn't-into, guy-I-was-into walked in with his (very hot) date.  I felt a little woozy and got up to go to the restroom. 

I grew up in a weird town, where hippies go to retire (which often happens at age 19).  In the restroom was a woman standing, buck naked, staring at the door.  I was already too shaken up by the date incident to know what to say, so I went directly into the stall.  And she struck a conversation with me, as though it was the most normal thing in the world that she was there.  It wasn't until I left the bathroom that I realized I didn't see a pile of clothes anywhere in the bathroom.  I still wonder about that.

Anyway, I aim to be that creepy woman.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Standing Guard.

The end of pregnancy hair.*

Why is it that the hair is lost so easily but not the pounds? I won't be showing a picture of the pounds, thank you very much.  And you can't click the picture, because a hairball that fills the computer screen is too much for a Sunday morning.

* What does it say about me that I had to tidy up a bit to take a picture of a hairball?

Saturday, December 26, 2009

I wouldn't change a thing.

Christmas day, cont.

... but he is there to greet you with fuzzy slippers, which in my world is even better.  I was a bit grumpy yesterday, despite my attempts to enjoy my beautiful, snow covered, baby filled Christmas morn.  That is, I was grumpy until I got a nap yesterday afternoon.  We had a very quiet Christmas.  I thought it would be a bit sad, but it was actually wonderful.  After traveling and visiting for the last couple weeks, it was superb to stay in my pajamas all day and not have to drive in the storm. 

We opened presents in the morning, then DH went to work and I got to take a lovely nap while MJ slept and the wrapping paper littered the floor.  Our dear friends came over in the evening, we cooked dinner and watched a movie until DH got home. 

As anyone with a 3 month and 2 week old baby can tell you, it's amazing how much has changed in a year.  Last year at this time we were baby free, and the idea still seemed like a remote possibility.  We got our positive pregnancy test on December 30th, followed by several more positives as I tried to recover from the shock.  She is the best Christmas present ever.  And I know she will continue to be the best present.  I still can't wrap my head around the fact that we created her from scratch, and yet she is wholly indendent.  She has her own little personality that we have, as yet, played very little role in.  I never tire of watching her discover her world.    Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Friday, December 25, 2009

Christmas day

The Jared commercial is inaccurate. When your baby wakes up at 4 am on christmas morn, your husband is not there to greet you with diamonds.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Snow storm


The plumber will not be charging us more, but the drip is still not fixed.  Apparently we have some super-special faucet that they cannot find anywhere.  By super special, I just mean our bathroom has not been updated since about 1950.  I like bright yellow tile, y'all.  And since nobody at any warehouse is answering the phone (thank you, snow) it will not get fixed until next week.  The bitch switch is turned off for the holiday, thankfully.

On a sidenote, I just looked over a cover letter that I recently sent out for a job I applied to.  I misspelled the name of the person I sent the letter to.  Doh.  How do you recover from that?  "Yes, I know I can't even spell your name correctly, but I swear in all other aspects I'm very attentive."  Or how about a nice fruit basket?  Do fruit baskets send the message "I swear I can spel"?

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The plumber is back.

They're trying to charge me again, claiming this is a separate issue.  They have just flipped the bitch switch.

Trying to make her comfortable... usually a losing battle. Or my concept of what comfortable looks like is just very off.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Stuck in traffic

But sitting next to this, it's not so bad.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Merry Christmas, hope you like your pipes.

I am watching my daughter nap serenely on the baby cam while listening to the plumber bang the pipes in the bathroom. I think he is making as much noise as possible to justify the $700 he is charging us for his workmanship. Merry Christmas, sweetie, hope you like your new waste water overflow.
Despite the horrid plumbing bill (thank you, Bonfe, but next time I will call Stillwater) it is wonderful to be back home.  I spent the last two weeks in Oregon and San Francisco, first visiting family, then attending a conference.  This was a geology conference, which is really just a codename for "drink fest".  Has anyone else heard of a conferece where kegs are wheeled out so that you can drink beer while discussing science at the poster session?

Needless to say, attending said conference with baybee in tow is much different than it has been in past years. I was very lucky to have my Mom attend and play babysitter for a week (thank you, Mom), and felt sympathy for other mothers toting their babies to sessions with them.  It's great that women do this, because it is a visual reminder that we need to deal with the issue of women in academia having babies (i.e., it shouldn't be reserved for women that have tenure, because by that point most women's ovaries are more like raisins.)  But I was glad I didn't have to be one of them.  It also wasn't the 7 day party it has been in the past.  I think my liver thanked me for that, though. 

On the last afternoon of the conference I gave a talk.  I was hoping that my time slot would cause low attendance, but it was actually one of the best attended sessions of the week.  I don't think I have ever been so nervous in my life, unless my labor-amnesia has spilled over into my personal life.  It went well, but I think it will be a while before I have the ovaries to give another talk at said conference.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

I learn by going where I have to go.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how different this whole baby thing has been from what I expected.  Mostly different-good.  A short list of my surprises:

Co-sleeping:  I was really excited about this.  Something about snuggling with my baby all night sounded glorious.  And everyone I had talked to said that their baby refused to be put down, or separated, for an instant.  She lasted in our room for one night.  Then I put her in her crib.  She sleeps gloriously there (10 hours or more, thank you very much).  I sleep gloriously.  We smile and coo at each other in the morning. 

Baby wearing:  Again, the idea of snuggling with my baby all the time made me warm and fuzzy inside.  I expected her to never want to be put down, and this seemed like a great way to get things done.  Turns out, she's only mildly tolerant of this.  Starting at about 4 weeks she refused to be worn facing inwards, she had to see what was going on.  She prefers to be put in her Bumbo in the middle of the kitchen while I clean.  She is way too independent for her own good.  She's going to expect a private entrance by the time she's 10 and her own 401 K by the time she's 15. 

A difficult child/my own incompetence:  I thought early motherhood would be hell.  I thought I'd have a screaming child and no clue what to do for at least the first 7 years.  For the next 7 she would be self sufficient enough to make her own peanut butter sandwiches, and after that she would be making peanut butter sandwiches for me.  I was excited about having an older child, but babies just never appealed to me much.  They're so helpless!  They just sit there!  But, it turns out, my baby is different (yah, right, you say.)  She is all knowing, you can see it in here eyes.  She does fascinating things, like puke on herself, and coo during diaper changes.  The voracious reading I did during pregnancy definitely helped.  Once I had her, I felt like I was pretty well prepared despite never having been around babies.  I could name all the growth spurts.  What is the 4 month wakeful, you say?  Just ask the bump.

Marital strife:  Everyone said how having a baby made them feel distant from their husband.  I feel extremely lucky to say that I think it has only brought us closer.  We always seem to get along best when we have a difficult task that we are facing together.  This time, that difficult task is MJ.  Maybe this means we'll have 18 years of marital bliss, and that we better find something hella-difficult to focus on when she leaves the house.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Home Sweet Home

By Oregon standards, it has been bitter cold this week. Even by Minnesota standards 12 degrees is pretty cold. But it turns out 12 degrees without wind is warm by Minnesota standards; I don't think I've ever experienced that combination before. It's been great to be back home; it's great to have Grandma there as a (very willing) babysitter and launderess, and enjoy the sunny cold weather (a rarity by Oregon standards).
MJ has been so alert I'm not sure what to do with her.  She can't sleep because she gets so excited by everything.  Unless she is totally isolated she cannot sleep.  Even in a completely quiet room, she still finds the items around her fascinating.  Everyone tells me this is a sign of a very intelligent baby, which, of course, makes me beam with pride; they probably say that to everyone, but I'm happy to think my baby is the smartest.  It's just that it's already hard to keep up with her.  And I know this is only the beginning.

Sunday, December 6, 2009


Here's something I do not recommend:
Planning a major cross-country trip that coincides with the 3 month growth spurt.

While DH holds down the homefront (and takes full advantage of bachelorhood, I am sure) I have taken Munchkin out west to visit her relatives, followed by a week at a conference next week.  I attributed her extreme fussiness yesterday to the 4 am wake-up.  And to her newfound alertness, wherein she is no longer the darling infant that simply falls asleep when things get too overwhelming to her.  Now she tries to take it all in, does a good job for a while, but then can't fall asleep for fear she'll miss something.  

Anyway, yesterday sucked.  The first time her uncle held her, as I crammed the stroller in the car, she squeezed out her first real tears.  I hate having to tell all her relatives "I swear, she's not usually like this.  She's a really mellow, happy baby" while they just shake their head in pity.  They probably won't meet her again for a year or more, and this will be the image they all have of her until then.  Lord, please make this a short growth spurt. 

Friday, December 4, 2009

Perhaps I am getting old

Because I just can't get on board with Twitter. Up until now, I have loved everything the internet has dished out. BBSes? Yes! (And if you don't know what BBSes are then perhaps you are the old one.  Or young one.) The world wide web, back when there were internet phone books? Bring it on. Search engines? Napster? Of course. Friendster, Myspace, Facebook? More, more, more. Blogging? Need I say more.

But twitter? Really? Why would I want to know your every inane thought and action? With the exception of a few people that I can count on one hand, I just don't care. Those few people can tweet and I would read, but no one else. Obama. My dog. Robert Downey Jr. That's all I can think of.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009


The man I married didn't believe in dating when we first met.  When we first married, his friends confessed to me he had been voted most likely to never get married.  The man I married never looked at babies fondly. 
But today, me and the man I married took our new stroller for a wheel around the block.  And it was SWEET!  Great supension.  Smoothe ride.  Straight tracking.  Full rain cover.  This is something I never thought the man I married would be excited about, and yet there we were.  The Joovy Zoom.  I wish I had to here disclose that I have been given this as a promotion, but no, we bought it.  It is the most expensive vehicle we will probably ever buy her, as I think she should have to buy her own car. 

BTW, how does one get to be one of those bloggers who gives stuff away?  And gets to try things out then blog about it?  This is one of my goals in life. This is how I'll know I've made it as a blogger. 

Anyway, I've got to go for a run tomorrow.  We won't have many more days that are warm enough for a run (not that it's warm now.)  I'm a little bummed that I no longer have an excuse to not run, though soon it will be cold enough I'll have far too many excuses.  The only issue now is that our house is so tiny we're not sure where to put this massive stroller.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

First Day

The fam left a few days ago.  And I then went into heavy duty work mode as I prepare for an (informal) presentation this Thursday, which is practice for a (formal) presentation at a conference in San Fran in a few weeks.  I also called our day care location yesterday to touch base, and it dawned on me that they might be able to watch MJ for a couple days while I get some work done.  It probably took more time to get everything together (bottle for every feeding!  bin for the diapers!  diaper cover for every diaper change(?)!) than she was actually there for, but it was amazing to have several hours of uninterrupted concentration.

When I got to the day care I was struck by how good this is going to be for her.  She constantly craves stimulation, and I know she will get it there.  More so than at home with me, when I'm doing work on my laptop and she stares at me like I'm the most boring person ever.  I really thought I would be able to leave her there with nothing but happy thoughts, but as I was leaving, I saw her sitting there, and she just looked so tiny.  Way too tiny to be entering this great big world on her own.  And I confess, there were tears.  But she was nothing but happy to see me 5 hours later, and I felt so much better having gotten some work done.  I know this is only the beginning.  I know this is the right decision for her; it's my job to give her as many experiences as I can.  It's my job to help fill her life with people who love her.  I am so thankful for all the crazy experiences I had as a child  (international travel at 5!  independent international travel at 15!) which I know were hard for my Mom (there were tears!) but which gave me so much strength and independence.  I want the same thing for my daughter, but I know it will never be easy.

Friday, November 20, 2009


My mother-in-law and brother-in-law come to visit tomorrow, so I am enjoying my last night of complete freedom for the week.  I love my in-laws (and don't think they have discovered this here blog)but we have a very small house.  860 square feet small.  So it can feel a bit crowded when you have 5 humans and a dog sharing the space; little things like freely nursing become more constrained.  Motherhood has significantly reduced my modesty, but I still don't feel like showing my stretch marks to the world. 

But we have an exciting week ahead of us.  MJ's christening tomorrow, a week of baking, a turkey to fry, and an on-demand babysitter.  Posting may be slim (or extensive, depending how things go.)  Enjoy the deep philosophical ponderings of Vito and MJ.

Crib Cam

Not to freak you out, but our baby has a live video feed on the internets. 24 hours a day, you can see her thrash and snooze in her crib. Well, this would be true if she were actually sleeping in her crib, but in theory it's good. Furthermore, you can remotely control the camera, so you can watch me stumble in at 4 am with my sleeping mask atop my head and my shirt still in nursing-ready position.

Yes, folks, we have a web-cam attached to her crib that broadcasts her every little grunt and flail. This feed is password protected, and only the grandparents and other close relatives have the password.

But such an arrangement begs the question: how long can we keep this up? I have started to wonder when we will have to remove the camera from her room. And when she will understand what it is. At what point does a child need privacy? At some point I know they demand privacy, sometime around the time they discover that the opposite sex isn't aways gross. But do they need privacy before they even demand it? I haven't decided on this one yet.

And best of all, will she think we are just omniscient when we know that she has been climbing on her crib while she's supposed to be taking a nap? Let's just hope she doesn't hold this against us when she begs for a live internet feed at the age of 13.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Better living through blogging

There are a number of blogs I read written by women I would like to meet. Some of these are even local folks who I feasibly could meet. But how would one go about such a thing? Is that stalking?

I have a hard enough time getting the balls to befriend a real-life person. You know how it goes; you meet someone you like, someone you could see yourself befriending. Then you what? Ask for their cell number? Call them and ask if they want to go for a walk? Or get coffee? Or skip rocks in the local pond? Or play laser tag in the park? See, I'm not very good at this. I'm getting better, largely with the help of my husband, who is responsible for me figuring out the "get their cell phone number" part. I usually ask for their email address, because that's the kind of geek I am, but that requires planning an event in advance and emailing them in advance, which I'm not good at. Cell phones allow for more last minute planning.

Anyway, how do you befriend someone in the blogosphere? I guess you start off by internet stalking them. See if you can find them on Amazon and get their address. Then do repeated drive-bys of their house until you have their schedule figured out. Then arrange a casual run-in when they are emptying their trash, and off-handedly mention that you read their blog. This seems totally feasible, I should really get on that.

On cleanliness

Any time I actually buckle down and clean a room, I realize it really doesn't take as long as I have built it up in my head. In fact, if I spent less time farting around the internet, I would probably have a sparkling house and still have enough time to paint my toenails.

My kitchen floors have been grossing me out for weeks. One of the consequences of lactating is not just milk-stained shirts (and thus lots more laundry) but dirty floors when you drip all over them. (Am I grossing anyone else out?) Then those sticky milk drips collect dirt. So I buckled down and cleaned my kitchen today, including the floors, which is probably my least favorite cleaning activity. And you know what? It only took an hour. From top to bottom. Including a good scrub down of the microwave. Now, to be fair, I know have much lower standards than most people (not including my taste in men, DH). But I put it off for weeks and in 1 hour I was able to make my brain at peace.

This was only possible because I have discovered something about my dear child: even though she thinks she's all grown up and doesn't need to sleep during the day, she is wrong. She dropped her afternoon nap about 2 weeks ago, and was thus only getting very short cat naps during the day. And she was also grumpy, which I attributed to some feeding issue. But yesterday I forced her to sleep by placing her in her crib and closing the door, thus shutting her off from stimulation. She fussed a bit, but didn't cry (I'm not a monster). And after about 20 minutes she was asleep (how I love a video monitor).

She is like her father. She will sacrifice sleep if anything remotely interesting is going on (which includes just staring at me). She wants to be part of it all. She wants to stay up late, drinking martinis and talking about boys. She wants to carouse the neighborhood and TP houses. And unless I force her to take some time for herself, she will think she can do it all. I suspect this is a trait that will stay with her for a while.

So the cleaning only happened because I discovered the beauty of forcing her to take an afternoon nap. She is happier, my house is cleaner, and now I even have time to watch the season finale of Mad Men.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Strike negotiations

I am trying to avoid an impending strike. MJ is seriously contemplating quitting the bottle. And since I never thought to make her sign a contract, we're having negotiations, most of which consist of very tragic faces on her part.

It actually gives me immense satisfaction to know I am enough for her, she doesn't need some plastic contraption for fulfillment. Because when she's a teenager she will much prefer the plastic contraption to me. But the idea of being tied at the boob to my child is rather terrifying, so negotiations will continue until we come to some agreement. A strike is just not an option.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Watch out for exploding uteri

Seriously. MJ wore this to mass, I was afraid every womb in the place was going to simultaneously contract. She's just that cute.
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Sunday, November 8, 2009

Sleeping through the night

So here I go, imparting all my vast mama wisdom (similar to a 1st grader telling you the secret to achieving academic success). Here's the recipe that seems to be the reason our baybee sleeps through the night.

1. When the pediatrician tells you to supplement with pumped milk because your baby has lost too much weight, completely disregard the amount she told you to feed your baby and cram her full of as much milk as she wants, even if she pukes half of it back up. This stretches out your baby's stomache and causes her to demand more milk, and also causes her to gain a whopping 12 ounces in 3 days.

2. When the pediatrician tells you you really don't need to feed your baybee so much, and that she doesn't need to gain weight so fast, you listen intently. You try to implement this, but now she has come to expect a lot of milk when she's hungry. Her stomache is stretched.

3. Try your darnedest to reduce the amount of milk required at each feeding, because your boobs just aren't that big and can't hold that much milk. Fail, utterly.

4. Adapt to the status quo. She feeds all day long, cluster feeding in the morning and evening. Since your boobs can't possibly produce milk that fast, you implement a power pumping session after she goes to bed so that you can have extra milk to supplement her during the day.

5. This baby stomache is now the Hummer of baby stomache's. Tough to fill, but since it allows her to sleep through the night, your baby is a status symbol that causes jealousy in other moms. Put her down at 9 pm, pump for a while for the next days feedings. Have a glasss of wine and watch your favorite TV show, knowing she will not wake until ~6 am.

P.S. Make sure to put her in one of the snazzy night time diapers before she goes down.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Luckiest mama alive

Okay, I haven't been talking much about Madeline. Being as this is, unavoidably, a mommy blog, I am supposed to talk about my baby. That's how these things work. That's what people expect out of a mommy blog. So why haven't I been talking much about my darling baby? Because all those mama's will slaughter me. Because, truly, I have been blessed with one of the easiest infants ever.

Don't believe me? She was sleeping through the night by 2 weeks. By three weeks she was sleeping between 6 to 8 hrs a night, and at two months she's up to 8 to 10 hrs a night. This is a breastfed baby. She wakes up happy. She cries when she's hungry or needs to be fed. We might have a total of 15 minutes of unexplained crying throughout the day, and the rest of the time she is happy. She predictably takes a nap from ~1 pm to 5 pm. She nurses well. She smiles a lot.

That is why I don't talk much about her. Because I'm afraid I will be hunted down for being happy and well rested. You are not supposed to have a 1 month old and feel sane, apparently. It starts to become more acceptable to be sane with a 2 month old, which is why I'm finally coming out of the closet.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Dog vs. Baby

I'm not sure which is more enjoyable to dress up... though baby seems a little more tolerant. This year Vito gets the shaft, it's all M.J. Here's costume number one, costume number two will be unveiled this Halloween Eve, pics to come!

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Thursday, October 29, 2009

Baby likes the boob

Honestly, breastfeeding's going great. At least, it's about 80% great; we do have our rough patches. She had one bottle of formula a few days ago (it's a long story, but I don't think it's a trend) and other than that she's survived exclusively on breastmilk. I can't help but feel a little proud, because I'd been told by so many people how difficult breastfeeding is.

But the problem I'm having now is that I sometimes fear she likes the boob too much. I think she gets that from her father. Often when I take her off, after she has stopped sucking, she'll look content for a few moments, and then start bawling. I cannot console her. She'll actually be a little better if I set her down. I thought maybe she's hungry, but she'll refuse a bottle (which she'll always take when she's hungry.) And if DH picks her up she is instantly happy. The problem? She's pissed that I took her off the boob. I'm glad she likes nursing, but I hate that I can't hold her for a little while afterwards. I think she's knows it's RIGHT THERE, she can even TOUCH it. And I won't give it to her. I'm sure this is only the first in a long list of things she'll cry about when I tell her she can't have them, I just didn't expect it to start so soon.

(And for all the attachment-parenting-breastfeeding-fanatics, it's not like I tear her off as soon as she's done sucking. But I can't let her hang out there all day, otherwise I couldn't eat my oatmeal.)

Monday, October 26, 2009


I'm not sure what I thought, but I didn't realize babies need to be entertained. The first few weeks she just *was*. She wasn't very interested in what I was doing, so I didn't worry too much about entertaining her. She was happy.

But NOW, she is paying attention. When I talk to her, she listens. When I read her a book she looks at the pictures.

And that means, that when I swear, she is listening. When I look at trashy celebrity websites she sees it. These are all things she may one day hold against me.

And, perhaps more importantly, I feel like I should be spending all this time teaching her. If she's paying attention, I should be filling her brain with brilliance. It used to be that no one cared how much time I spent farting around the internets (or at least A could deal with it) but now I'm supposed to be setting a good example. I don't actually think she is going to remember all the mistakes I make now, and all my swearwords, but at some point she will. And will I be given warning when this is about to happen? I doubt it. No, she will store up these events and whip them out and the most embarrassing possible time, like greeting time at church. She will turn to a nice, elderly woman, and say "Douchebaggery".

So my concept of a stay-at-home-mom having time to do something other than childcare is quickly fading. I've never had a tidy house, and figured that if I did stay at home and still didn't have a tidy house I'd have time to do all sorts of other things. But now, I don't know how you have time to do anything other than stare at your child.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Foot in mouth... Madeline will learn it from me

I realized a few weeks ago that I hadn't seen my neighbor in a while. So when I saw him today, my inner busybody just had to know why. Are him and his wife getting a divorce? Does he have a sick relative? None of my business, I know, but....

Me: "Hey, we haven't seen you around much lately."
Him: "Yah, I've been on an LOA up at Hazelton."
Me: (slight pause) "Oh, that sounds fun."
Him: (slight pause) "Mmm... not really. I've been up there for about 3 months. I'm only here for a day, then I have to go back. "
Me: "Well, if there's anything we can do to help, let us know.

As soon as I got in the car with my Dad I asked him to pull out his Iphone (so that's what those are for) and google "Hazelton".

Results: Hazelden. World renowned addiction treatment centers, publishing, education, and recovery support.

Yep, that sounds like fun alright.

Monday, October 12, 2009

The most shocking thing about my baby

This didn't hit me until she was a few days old, because A is wonderful and did all the diaper changes those first few days. To be fair, I was recovering from major surgery, and needed all the help I could get. But, too, A is wonderful.

Anyway. My first diaper change. I had never changed a diaper before, but how hard can it be? They seem straight forward enough. Take off dirty diaper. Wipe off poo. Put clean diaper on. The shocker? After I wiped off her poo, I noticed that even her butthole is cute. A tiny, perfectly puckered little butthole. Brand spanking new. Barely used. The fact that even my daughter's butthole is adorable is proof of just how perfect she is.

One Month

And the smiles have begun. There is quite possibly nothing better than having visual evidence that your baby is happy.

The day after I had her it was in the 90's. Today there is snow on the ground and it's been coming down all day. Yes, she's changing quickly, but not as quickly as the weather. I do like snow, but it's hard to accept that winter is already here and won't be gone until April, at least. October is not supposed to be a month of snow; you can't see the leaves change color if they're covered in snow.

It's interesting to me that before I had her, when there wasn't much excitement, just a lot of waiting, I had plenty to blog about. Now I'm at a loss, and all I really have is pictures. She's a good baby, I have no complaints. She generally sleeps 4 to 5 hours at a stretch at night. She only cries when she's hungry, needs to be changed or tired. The rest of the time she's happy. I know I'm partial, but she's impossible not to love.

We've started taking her out more and more. I realize she's not yet six weeks, and therefore we're supposed to limit her exposure to crowds. But considering her Dad works in the ER, I'm not convinced that taking her out and covering her up is worse than just hanging out at home. She's at high risk for exposure no matter how you cut it, but it makes me extra glad that breastfeeding's going well.

So this last week we hung out with our friends on four separate occasions. She did great, and it was so nice to feel somewhat normal again. We're social people, isolation makes us crazy (A more so than me). It's nice to be able to have a baby and still feel normal. Last Thursday was the first day that I really felt like myself again. A had the day off; he had to run some errands and Madeline and I went to the mall while he ran around. I went dress shopping for this fancy dress event we're going to in a few weeks (Madeline's first babysitting experience.) It was somewhat discouraging to not be able to fit into things I used to fit into, though I realize it could be a lot worse at this point. Considering I was up over 40 pounds (I stopped weighing myself after I had gained 40) I'm happy to only have 7 more to go. Unfortunately it will be too cold to run outside once I'm cleared for exercise, so I'll have to get creative.

Anyway, here's some pics to celebrate Madeline's first month on earth. Many more to come, hopefully just as happy as this one was.

Monday, October 5, 2009

How I spend my time

The drama of my days does not sound very dramatic. But after just watching the latest primetime drama, I realize I prefer my drama. However small. My drama consists of helping my daughter find her pacifier after it drops out of her mouth, without doing all the work myself. Trying to decide whether she is truly hungry, or just wants the comfort of nursing. Bemoaning my stretch marks and slightly larger belly. Seeing that she is content enough to be put in the swing while I do chores, but knowing that if I do so I will miss one of her precious I-am-totally-content-in-the-world moments, which I will never get back. Crawling into my bed after she has finally fallen asleep, pre-warmed by my husband, and feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

Sunday, October 4, 2009


My Mom hit the road today. She's been here for ~2.5 weeks, and we've actually gotten along (for the most part). Her help has been a god-send, particularly at 6 am when I've gotten very little sleep. Madeline wakes up and is happy; all she wants to do is play and coo, and I am a bitter, grumpy, sleepless hag who is not into it. I'm working on it, but that is not my prime time. My Mom was always happy to take this shift. Madeline got to be her happy self, and I got to sleep some more. From here on out, I will have to summon my inner morning-person (though I'm not convinced that everyone has one of these, I'm hoping everyone does.)

So now, I think, the loneliness begins. A is back at work full time, my Mom is gone. And of course I know no one else with a newborn. So it's me, and the dog, and Madeline. As if to reiterate this fact, I missed out on my one chance for human interaction this morning. My friends called to invite me to go apple picking this morning, but I didn't hear the phone. Madeline's cry is far louder than a cell phone ring, and this was a fussy morning. So we went for a nice long walk, talked to a few of the crazies, and began to feel a bit like one. Okay, pity party done.

Monday, September 28, 2009


I really should have written this post last Wednesday, 5 days ago. Because that's the day when I can say I felt good. When I first got my c-section, and they gave me the recovery spiel (no driving for 3 weeks, no exercise for 6 weeks) I thought that meant it would be 6 weeks before I really started to feel normal. I am happy to say that is not the case. I think it was officially about 12 days after my surgery that I felt truly good. I'm still not running, but I've been walking and going about all my normal activities (including surreptitious driving). 12 days still sounds like a lot, but I'm certain part of that is due to just how taxing a newborn is. I'm curious how long it really takes to feel normal after a vaginal birth...

Today I met with the midwife who labored with me. It was very heartening. It was so nice to have follow up, something that often doesn't happen in our current medical system. She told me I have no reason to expect that I couldn't do a VBAC. The biggest problem was Madeline's positioning, which may or may not have been affected by my broken tailbone. But she said she would consider this a second vaginal delivery, since I basically made it all the way down, so she expects that the pushing would go much faster and that may help the process.

Not much other news. I am a breastfeeding machine. After meeting with the lactation consultant four times we were finally told we don't have to return (woohoo!) I have constantly heard the first two weeks are the hardest, and it was right at the two week mark that we were given the green light. She's great at going between breast and bottle, is fine with the pacifier, and is all around a very flexible baby. Here's hoping this continues. Now we just have to figure out how to keep her warm in our drafty house as the Minnesota winter begins to arrive....

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


The best things about having an outside baby:

1) A baby that is world's cuter than I could even imagine.
2) Getting to spoon my husband again.
3) Seeing my feet again. And my ankles have never looked so beautiful.
4) Feeling super-model thin despite still having many pounds to lose.
5) Finally living in the present. I've been planning for this for so long, it's nice to be living it. I can say that only because my mother is here helping me, and DH is still on paternity leave. Turns out it takes three people in order to preserve your sanity.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Birth Story, Part II

Madeline has been doing great. We're starting to get the breast feeding thing down (had I written this post a few days ago I would not have felt so encouraged). We still have some issues, but they seem to slowly be getting better. I think she's hit her first growth spurt; she's hungry constantly and constantly awake. Makes for tiring days, but I'm glad she's doing well. So on to part deux.

I got the epidural. I remember saying to A "this is the best decision I ever made". I felt very good about it. I figured this would let me rest for pushing, and, at least at first, it wasn't complete numbness. It was about 10:30 am and I slept for a couple hours. Now time actually seemed to slow down. Two hours later they checked me again and I had not progressed, however. I was so disappointed. The staff even seemed surprised, because I had been going so fast and I was still having consistent contractions. We discussed and decided on Pitocin.

I realized this was becoming the birth I did NOT want. Everything I had hoped to avoid. I never felt like things were being pushed on me, but there was the meconium issue, which was getting worse. And by this time there were dips in her heart rate, too. It was unclear how much of it was the monitor and how much was her. They discussed a scalp monitor until her heart rate came back up. I was too out of it to really protest. I had agreed to the epidural, knowing it ties me to all these other things. I remember being frustrated but still feeling like everything was progressing well and it would all end well. I didn't really feel like anything was wrong with her.

After a couple hours of pitocin it was time to push. Everything seemed to be going well, at least to me. I had sensation in half my body, so I could feel well enough to push. There was pain but it wasn't intolerable, which I was okay with. She was descending, a little slowly, but I felt okay. I think everyone thought I was more tired than I was because my eyes were closed. But it felt more meditative than anything. The lights were bright, there was too much commotion so I just closed my eyes and focused. Then I started to realize they were concerned. She wasn't descending. Her heart rate kept dipping. They thought I was tired, though I didn't feel that tired, my pushes just weren't doing anything. Mostly I just felt like I was pushing wrong.

The OB team showed up in the room, the midwife must have called them. I remember the midwife saying she was getting stuck on a bone; she asked if I'd ever damaged my tailbone, which I had. I broke it ~8 years ago while snowboarding. It had never occurred to me this could be a problem. Anyway, they discussed. They agreed to let me continue pushing as long as I felt up to it. But they were concerned that her heart rate kept dipping, sometimes down to a sustained 60 or 90 bpm. There was meconium. If I didn't progress, they would try the vacuum.

If that didn't work they said c-section might be my best option. This was the first time c-section was mentioned and I think I cried. I was so determined to get her out, but I just remember being disbelieving. How could she get stuck? Everything had been going so well. It just didn't seem like a real possibility.

So when the OB team left I suggested I push on hands and knees; I had pretty good sensation and felt certain this could work. I pushed this way for a while. Her heart rate was much better, but eventually I got tired and she had essentially not moved at all. We tried again on my back; her heart rate dropped again. No progress. Then I suggested the toilet; they suggest the squat bar instead which I was fine with. Her heart rate was fine again, but I was getting nowhere. The midwife was trying to turn her, but I guess her head was transverse (so that her ear was facing out) and there was not much success. Eventually I agreed to try the vacuum; they told me I had about 3 tries and then it was a c-section. I pushed as hard as I knew how. In total, I pushed for over 2.5 hours, but I think all of her progress was in the first 45 minutes or so.

I couldn't believe it was going to be a c-section. It seemed so unreal. I felt like I had more pushing left in me. But I could tell A was very worried. And I didn't know what else to suggest. I felt like I had to. Like to not get a c-section would have been irresponsible. And so we did. I remember A talking to the doctor about using double layer sutures, about how I wanted to try a VBAC in the future, and she was on board. It made me feel slightly better to know how supportive of vaginal birth she was, it was one small concession. My epidural was completely ineffective at this point, I remember still trying to push even while they were getting things ready for a c-section, hoping I could get somewhere. That they were just giving up on me too soon. But I got nowhere. I was sobbing as they wheeled me in. As they were performing it. I couldn't stop crying. For that matter, I can't not cry as I write this.

They gave me a spinal. All the nurses and techs were trying to console me as I sobbed. When they began the operation A began telling me everything they were doing, and I looked at him horrified and told him to stop. It took a little longer than I expected to get her out, and once she was out there was just quiet. I started bawling, not knowing what was going on. Then she started to cry and I immediately felt like it was all worth it. I had asked A to stay with her, but it felt like an eternity before I knew what was going on. It was probably only a couple minutes, but it seemed much longer. A brought her over to me and she was fine. No problems. Scored 8 and 9 on her apgars. This, in spite of the fact that she had been severely wedged in my pelvis and took them quite a while to get her out. And A said there was more meconium than he'd ever seen (he's probably been at ~20 c-section births).

So after all that, was a C-section necessary? A week out I can think about this a little bit more objectively, but not much. Yes, I'm happy I have a beautiful, healthy girl. She's perfect. So if the C-section was truly necessary, it was totally worth it. No hesitation. But could it have been avoided? Do I have an inadequate pelvis? I recall reading that only ~5% of women do, and I find it hard to believe that I'm one of them. I don't have a small frame, I have no reason to believe that a baby can't fit. How much of a role did my broken tail bone play? I don't know, but I have an appointment to meet with both the midwife and the OB to ask them their opinion of my likelihood of having a VBAC in the future.

There you go. Not the birth I had hoped and planned for. But a healthy girl nonetheless, the consolation I have to focus on. I found stories such as mine discouraging when I was pregnant, but I guess I wrote this all out more for myself than other people (because who really reads all this, anyway!) It's healing I find to think through and write out everything that happened. And now I can focus on MJ, the cutest baby ever.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Birth Story, Part I

I've been working on this for days, and it's so long (and still unfinished) I think it best to post it in installments. Hey, if it was good enough for Dickens, who am I to shun my noise at a serialized version?

i sit here typing one handed, abandoning all attempts at capitalization for the time being. i am unpregnant. and, more importantly, we are a family. i guess we were before, but now we're a family like we've never been before. she's beautiful. perfect. everything i could have hoped for, and the only thing that makes this rough week worthwhile.

so i'll start with the birth story, because i was obsessed with reading these while pregnant and feel the need to write it all out. i'll warn any family or friends reading this there will be extensive discussion of my girly bits, mention of poop, mucus, and a lot of other things you may just not want to think about. so be forewarned.

i was very frustrated last week. i didn't think i'd be one of those people who got all frustrated about going past their due date, but i most certainly was. i was despairing, and largely tried to avoid contact with family and friends so as not to be asked questions or listen to jokes. on thursday night of last week i had contractions all night long, ~10 minutes apart, but even getting down to 7 minutes apart. i was sure this was labor. i wasn't excited about having her on the 11th, but i was excited that this was finally it. but by friday morning they had completely stopped.

(Return of capitalization means Madeline is down for a nap). All of Friday I was rather crampy, though not having contractions and generally just frustrated. That evening I had a few, though not regular and not strong. I talked A into going to a Regina Spektor concert with me (which was, by the way, absolutely amazing.) He was not excited about it, but he went (and later admitted he had a great time). If you haven't heard of her I highly recommend checking her out.

Anyway, I went to bed that night thinking about induction options, c-section risks and generally nothing good. At 3:45 am on Saturday I woke up to a slight contraction and then a gush; I immediately knew my water had broken. I called to A from the bathroom, telling him to wake up, we're going to need to head to the hospital. His immediate response - "Are you sure you didn't just piss yourself?" "No, A, I did not piss myself." I don't think he believed me. But then the contractions really started kicking in and he realized that either way we needed to get going. They were about 7 minutes apart and strong. We took showers, put the bags in the car and headed out.

By the time I got to the hospital they were ~5 minutes apart. We checked into labor and delivery, they took us to our room. We got one of the rooms that had the mobile fetal monitors, which I am so glad for. By the time I got into the gown and they checked me it was ~4:45 and I was 4 cm dilated. I was a little under 3 cm at my last appt., so a little over a cm progress in a few days. Not bad. The contractions were strong and the midwife told me that if I was thinking of pain meds I could have them at any time; I said I was hoping to go natural and she was fully supportive.

Although the fluid had looked clear to me when my water broke, when they did the exam they noticed some meconium. Not a ton, but some. I was a bit disappointed, knowing that that means an automatically slightly higher risk birth. But we carried on.

I recall laboring on the toilet for a while when they were getting everything ready. They put the fetal monitor on me, with the plan to take it off after a while. The nurse drew a bath, and although I had no desire to move they talked me into getting in. Best. Thing. Ever. I hadn't realized how many tense muscles I had until I felt them all relax in the hot water. It made all the difference. A was being great. Supportive, encouraging, everything I needed. I labored for I don't know how long... I had no sense of time, and I think it actually passed quicker than it felt. I was assuming it was at least ~5 minutes between contractions, but they were actually much closer together so time was actually moving quicker than I realized. With each contraction I thought "maybe I should get an epidural". Then between contractions I thought "I can do this". Once I realized this was the pattern I was settling into, it gave me strength to know that the relief between contractions was sufficient to give me the strength to keep going. The midwife was fantastic and her encouraging words made a huge difference. Furthermore, they offered to take the monitor off and I found I actually liked having it on. Hearing her heartbeat was wonderful... I would just listen to the galloping horses and continue to remember what this was all for.

Then the pain intensified. Exponentially. I felt like I was getting no break between contractions. I was having nausea throughout, but now it was much worse. I suddenly decided I had to have an epidural. I couldn't tolerate it. I figured I had to have progressed far enough that it wouldn't be so bad. The midwife guessed 7 cm, I got out of the tub and she checked me. I was at 6. At this point, it was essentially contraction, puke, contraction, puke. No rest whatsoever and knowing that I hadn't even hit transition I was losing my mind. They called the anesthesiologist who said he'd be a while; I think it was about 9:30 am at this point. They offered me fentinol in the interim, which I agreed to, and it did help.

I started to think maybe this is all I would need. However, when she checked me there was much more meconium than before. And the problem is that things were moving so fast that I was afraid she would be born with fentinol still in her system. The anesthesiologist arrived much quicker than he had said he would, about 10 am I think. But because the fentinol seemed to be working the midwife asked if I still wanted an epidural. She was gently trying to talk me out of it, which I appreciated. She checked me again and I was 8.5 cm (in only about an hour or hour and a half I'd gone another 1.5 cm.) I was so torn. The anesthesiologist was standing there. I knew this was probably my only chance, but I was also so close. I remember looking at A, wanting him to decide for me. I think he was in favor of the epidural. He later told me how much he hated seeing me in that much pain, and he also felt than another dose of fentinol, if needed later, would not be a good option. I decided to get the epidural. I also remember thinking that I had enough "momentum" that everything would continue to progress. In retrospect, that was foolish, that's not how things work. But anyway.

Short on words

Wow, I can't seem to get the birth story out. I think it will come in installments. All I can seem to do is take pictures of this child which I am so achingly in love with.

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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

To tide you over....

Birth story is on the way. It will probably be posted today or tomorrow, but in the meantime here you go.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

I'm still here.

It seems that every birth story I read begins something like this:

I woke up at 2 a.m. with what I thought were gas pains. It turns out I was in labor.


All day long I had this nagging back pain; it wasn't until that evening that I realized I had been having back labor and the pain was coming in waves.

Who are these people? My days have been more like:

I stubbed my toe this afternoon. This evening, as I was sitting on the couch, I started having pulsing toe pains and wondered if this could be a symptom of labor, until I remembered the stubbed toe.


A woman at the grocery store gave me the side eye yesterday. Shortly thereafter I felt a contraction, and I wondered if she was the labor fairy. But here I am, 24 hours later and still no baby, so she was probably just a nosy old woman who was afraid my water would break on her feet.

All I'm saying is, who are these women that are shocked that at 39 weeks the "gas pains" they're feeling are really contractions? I am looking for labor dust in every nook and cranny of my life, the only reason you haven't seen 20 "I think I'm in early labor" posts is that I restrain myself.

p.s. I just blew my nose, and there was a tiny spider in my snot. Possibly the grossest thing I've seen all day.

Thursday, September 3, 2009


The abstract is... completed. Submitted. Not all that great, I wish it had something more earth shattering to say, but I always wish my science was more earth shattering than it actually is. I guess that's what keeps me motivated.

Now I find myself... waiting. I'm due in 4 days. I realize you're not allowed to get impatient until you've passed your due date, and I actually don't feel that impatient, I'm just not sure what to do with myself. I have stopped going in to work/school. The nursery is finished. The house is as clean as I am capable of keeping it (though some would probably still be horrified by it. Babies covered in dog fur are gross to some people; I see it as evidence that my two favorite little beings are bonding.) The birthing books are read. The pediatrician has been met with. The freezer is pretty well stocked. The diapers are prepped. What else is there? What am I missing? What will I desperately wish I had done when I had the chance?

What I have been doing is cooking. I watched Julie & Julia the other day, and, like everyone else who sees that movie, was inspired to hit the kitchen. Last night I made prosciutto wrapped shrimp with cilantro and chipotle pepper glaze, along with corn and cheddar bay biscuits. Tonight... I haven't decided on dinner tonight. Tonight may be ice cream. Or yogurt. Or something else bad for me, because A will be sleeping until right before he has to work.

Maybe it's time to take down the baby shower decorations.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Vampire babies

I recently joined a local attachment parenting (AP) listserv. It's been very illuminating, and while I haven't yet had the problems that people ask questions about, I'm sure my time will come. Most of the questions seem to be on issues like how to get your baby to sleep, problems with breast feeding, etc. I think I'm still learning what AP is all about, but all in all they have a lot of great philosophies.

But there is one thing that I do not get. I have seen several posts now about children biting while you nurse them. And much of the advice is to just work through it. Does anyone else find that this goes against instinct? It would seem to me, that if your child is biting your boob, it is time to move on. Doesn't this seem like evolution at work? It's sort of like, when your baby gets so large that they could start damaging your innards, it's time for them to come out. You don't let them stay inside and batter your intestines. You move on, bring them into the outside world. But in the AP world, it seems that you're supposed to accept that babies bite boobs. That is what happens. I just really, really don't get it.

I'm not sure if there are some folks that read this blog that might be able to clarify this issue for me. My question is, if a baby is old enough to eat solids, and has teeth, and is biting you, why should they continue to nurse? Why is this not nature's way of saying that your baby is ready to move on to the next stage of development?

Friday, August 28, 2009

Nursery is done!

At long last, it is complete. Now if I can finish the rest of my life I will be ready for the babe (it's not like I'm waiting until the last minute or anything.)

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A drag queen sat on my baby.

The Gay 90's. Bachelorette Party. Drag Show. Queen named.... Desiree, maybe? I forget, but she won a Ru Paul title, which sounds impressive in the drag world (not that I really know.) Damn, girl had some moves, and long, long legs. She wandered through the audience. People gave her dollars, she danced. I wasn't about to approach the stage to tip my entertainer (pregnant girl in front of the audience? I don't think so.) So when she walked (strutted) by, this was my chance to give her a tip. Only then she sat on my belly. And caressed (I think? Couldn't really see.) my friend's boobs. There were legs in the air. I could barely breathe. Baby will never forgive me. Still in utero and already traumatized for life.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The rest of my life.

Although the mother and mother-in-law can ONLY ask about their impending grandchild, there are a few other (admittedly less exciting) things happening.

1. Our vegetable tomato garden.
Seriously, that's a garden. As in, we planted it and take responsibility for it. It used to have other things than just tomato's, but as you can see that is no longer the case. There used to be peas, and garlic, and lettuce, and swiss chard, and beans, and corn. Now it is just tomato's. Every year we swear we won't let the tomato's take over, and every year...

2. Tamales! I made 75 tamales on Sunday, and they are so good!
I roughly followed the recipe here. For the Masa, I did the following:
  • 4 cups masa
  • 2 tbs paprika
  • 2 tbs salt
  • 1.5 tbs cumin
  • 2 tsp oregano (it was probably quite a bit more, though, as I just dumped.)
  • 3 tbs garlic powder
  • 1/2 cup oil
  • 5 cups broth
I did sacrifice my arm to the endeavour, though:

But so worth it.

3. And I'm working on an abstract for a meeting in December. The idea of bringing the little one to a science conference is daunting, but I figure it's my future and I should embrace it. However, I thought I had until 20 September, and it turns out I have until next Thursday. Doh. So, better get this show on the road in case little one decides to make an early appearance.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

A book

I rarely promote products here, because I think that's kind of lame. But a couple months ago I stumbled on a book (at Urban Outfitter's, of all places) that I've been thinking of ever since. It's called "An Awesome Book" by Dallas Clayton. And it made me feel like a kid again. It made me remember reading Dr. Seuss books, and the Giving Tree, and Shel Silverstein. Books I loved as a kid. I didn't buy it at the time, because who buys a kids book at Urban Outfitters? And because I hadn't realized it would stick with me for so long.

But when I went to buy it, finally, I realized I couldn't find it anywhere other than his website. So I think this guy deserves some promotion. An internet search reveals that other people's kids do, indeed, like this book as well. It's not just me. And I'm so excited to read this book to my little girl.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Friday, August 21, 2009

I'll never....

I know I may regret this post someday, so rather than saying "I'll never do these things" let's keep it to "I'll try not to do these things."

1. Say "shut up" to my child. I realize that for some people it's just another form of "be quiet" or "hush" but to me there is a world of difference.

2. Make her feel like she has to compete/live up to DH or me. We've both been quite successful in life, I hope the same for our child, but I fully realize success can take any number of different paths.

3. Make her feel her self-worth depends on her appearance. While I will never pretend that appearance doesn't matter, I hope to be able to raise her to understand that ultimately perseverance, kindness and humor will get you most places you need to go.

What I will have a harder time with:

4. Not trying to push her into music. I will have a hard time comprehending if our child doesn't love music.

5. Embracing a love of sports. If she loves it, I'll try to love it too, but I know I'll have difficulty getting it.

I know that this list will grow to be much longer. I've really just started thinking about it. But that will suffice for tonight.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

My thoughts heading into battle.

1. I found out yesterday I tested positive for Group B Strep. I know it's not a big deal, but it's the first thing I would consider "risky" about this pregnancy (even though something like 30% of women test positive, so it's not really risky.) Unfortunately, it may lead to more interventions during labor (i.e. IV) than I had hoped.

2. There is a stretch mark explosion on my lower belly. I was bummed. My body is becoming a battlefield, and the real battle hasn't even begun.

3. As of monday I was finger tip dilated and 40% effaced. Not a ton of progress, but better than nothing. Any progress now is progress I don't have to make later.

4. I conducted a non-scientific survey last week on the bump. Everywhere I've read that only 10% of women have their water break before labor begins, but it seemed like so many of the birth stories I was reading involved water breaking before labor began. Turns out I was right, over 35% of women had their water break before labor began. I find this really interesting, because with over 200 respondents that's a pretty good sample population. Why is this population so much different? Or is the 10% just an outdated statistic?

4. I think today is my last day in the lab. I'm on the machine all day today, which is always satisfying. But it takes half my daily energy just to get into school, and I have decided that energy would be better spent by forgoing my 45 minute commute into school. I seem to be getting better work done with my feet propped up on the couch anyway.

5. My office mate, who sees me daily, made a comment today that I seem to have gotten huge. I was thinking the exact same thing, or else I might have been offended. Within the past week, I feel like my belly has doubled in size. Thus the stretch marks, I suppose. I know it hasn't actually gotten that much bigger, and I've probably only gained 0.5 lbs this week, but something feels different.

6. It is taking some serious will power not to buy more diapers. Specifically cute diapers, because I know I don't need any right now. Though I really don't have much past the newborn stage, but I had planned to wait and see what I like before buying more. I mean, how cute is this:

7. I am seriously excited about getting to wear normal clothes again. About being able to buy something on sale and think I might get to wear it next year, even if it's out of season at the moment. Just to look like a normal human again will be amazing.