MJ. 3 years old.

Well little girl, it should come as no surprise that your birthday wishes are a little late.  I was busy making your real-life birthday special, and surviving.  But this is the part that you may read someday, so it's worth commemorating.

Your continue to be an amazing little person.  You make me proud and frustrated at every turn.  Your quest for independence is never ending.  Since your sister has come along, this has been a wonderful help.  You can do many things for yourself.  You can get dressed with minimal help, go potty, get breakfast, get things that you want, and entertain yourself.  But it also means that you are constantly trying to push further.  You may be ready for this, but I'm not always ready.  I have watched to see how far away from me you would run in public, but the answer is that you would go much further than I can comfortably let you, and I always end up calling you back.

Your loves: coloring, Curious George, doctor stories, Elmo, cake, strawberries, your scooter, puzzles, games, babies.

Your hates (we had a long conversation about that word today): ants, thunder, fireworks.  There's really not much you don't like.  It's pretty much just ants and loud noises.

In reality, you are a wonderfully well behaved kid, especially given how "spirited" you are.  You have started backtalking,. tantrums and generally testing limits.  But generally you do as we ask.  You are good at sharing, and helping, and putting toys away.  These may sound like little things, but it makes me a proud mama when I see you be kind to other kids.

You love school.  I had thought a lot about keeping you home during my maternity leave, but I see how you blossom at school, and how much you learn, and how engrossed you are when the teacher is talking to you, and decided that it would be a disservice to you to take you away from that.  As every mom thinks, I think you're one smart little cookie.  I got you a puzzle for your birthday that I thought was far beyond your abilities, only to find you could do it all by yourself with minimal help from me.  I've been thinking a lot about what school you'll be going to, because I want to make sure that you don't lose this zest for learning. 

And you never. stop. talking.  You are SO full of questions.  I find it frustrating because it robs every moment of silence, but I also find it wonderful how fascinated with the world you are.  It is so fun to teach you things.  I get to teach you abstract concepts, like seasons, time, etc., and didn't realize what an amazing experience that would be. 

You have been a wonderful big sister.  I suspect some of it may change when Greta becomes more of a threat, given how upset you were when she "kicked" you the other day, but for the time being the transition has been better than I expected. 

Your Dad is fond of saying that you will change the world some day, and I wholeheartedly agree.    I'm a bit scared of the emotional intensity that comes with being three, but I'm so proud of the little person you're becoming.  I want to bottle up these moments and save them forever.  Since that isn't possible, I must settle for trying to enjoy each moment as much as I can.  Thank you for giving me so many moments to enjoy.  As sad as I am for all the moments I'll never get back, I am so excited for all the moments to come.  Thank you, little girl. 

Greta's Birth Story

One of the more frustrating things in life is a peacefully sleeping baby, coupled with the inability to fall asleep myself.  DH kindly took Greta this morning so I could get some extra sleep, but I didn't realize he'd let me sleep as long as I wanted!  I slept until noon, and now can't fall asleep for anything.

So I'm trying to get some things done.  And drinking a beer in the hopes it will help me fall asleep.

Let's go back a month.  On Saturday, July 28th, we went to a going away party for some dear friends of ours.  They were our first friends in Minnesota and are greatly missed.  At the time, I thought we would see them again before their departure, so it didn't really feel like a goodbye.  That, and I hate goodbyes, so I usually just avoid them.  It was a wonderful party.  MJ was up late that night, probably not getting to bed until about 10 o'clock.  I felt completely blissed out.  It was an absolutely phenomenal evening.  I'm not sure quite how to describe it, but the feeling was one of elation, intoxication (and no, nothing was imbibed).  At first I felt like it was due to it being a wonderful party, which it was, but as DH and I were crawling into bed I realized that the feeling was the exact same as I had had the evening before I went into labor with MJ (which was at a Regina Spektor concert).  I made a comment to DH that if I was a betting person, I would bet that I would go into labor with MJ that night.

I got up many times that night to pee, and as the early morning hours started to roll around I began to despair.  Like, really despair.  I had been really, really certain that I was going to go into labor.  And now it looked like I was wrong.  But about 6 am I woke up with very mild cramping.  I thought it was wishful thinking, but (of course) hoped it was the real thing.  By 7 they were real enough that I began to wonder if I wasn't imagining it.  I decided to get things ready, just in case.  I got out of bed and made some cinnamon rolls.  I packed up the last of the things that needed to come to the hospital with us.  At 7:45 I had some bloody show, and I started to become convinced this was it.  I was nervous to notify anyone, because I didn't want to be wrong.  But the show convinced me to contact our doula.  Just a head's up, in case she was trying to plan her day.

MJ woke up about 8 and was ecstatic to see cinnamon rolls waiting for her.  We ate some together then woke up Dad.  I told him I thought I was in labor and he should get up and get things together.  He was totally skeptical but I ignored him.

Apparently at 8:45 I started sending out emails to people (because I have a record of this).  My contractions were 7 to 9 minutes apart.  I asked our friends if they could watch MJ for the day.  I told my work that I would not be coming in and sent them my timesheet info.  I was pretty convinced, apparently.  I still was afraid that things would totally stall but didn't want to be caught in a panic situation.  I also lost my mucous plug at 10 am.  So by about 10ish (10:30?) MJ was at our friends house with enough stuff to stay the night if needed.  She was excited for it and completely oblivious when contractionts hit, but I was relieved when she was gone. I knew she was in safe hands and I didn't have to worry about anything other than getting the baby out. 

After DH came home from dropping MJ off we sat and watched some olympics.  I had some strong contractions and called the oncall midwife.  Contractions were 5-7 minutes apart.  She seemed subdued, unconvinced this was anything serious yet, but I was convinced.  I took some Zofran at 11, because I was starting to feel nauseous and wanted to head off the extreme nausea that had gotten me last time.  I ate part of a sandwich, largely because I was told to.  Our doula showed up about 11 to see how things were going.  We chatted for a while, and my contractions lessened.  We went for a walk and things seemed to have totally slowed down.  This was exactly what I was scared of: putting everyone on alert for nothing.  After our walk, about 12:30, when it seemed nothing was happening, our doula went home for a while.  We sat and watched some more olympics, me feeling totally discouraged.  But by 1:30 things had picked up again.  I took some more Zofran.  DH called our doula again about 1:45, and when she showed up at the house 15 minutes later things were intense.  While we were chatting, I had an absurdly painful contraction that made me convinced it was time to go to the hospital.  I remember Rebecca asking what it felt like and responding that it felt like someone was stabbing me.  It wasn't until then that I realized my water had broken during that contraction.  So we threw everything in the car and left, about 2:15.

I sat in the back seat of our virtually brand new minivan.  I didn't think to bring a towel.  With every contraction fluid went everywhere.  I remember just sitting in a puddle of warm fluid thinking how gross this was going to be.  I also remember driving by the hospital we had MJ at, which is about 5 minutes from our house, thinking "Why did we decide to go somewhere so much further?  Maybe it's not too late to just go to the closer hospital."  I was yelling through each contraction at this point. 

At some point, I realized we were nowhere we were supposed to be.  I asked DH "Where the fuck are we?"  I took joy in swearing, knowing MJ was nowhere around and therefore it was okay.  All in all, I think I took the fact that DH got lost on the way to the hospital very well.  I was really in too much pain to worry too much about it, and by the time I realized it we were almost there. 

He dropped me at the door to the ER so he could park.  I was not in a cooperative mood.  I spoke to the receptionist, and she asked me to sit down while she contacted maternity.  I told her no.  I need to go now.  I am not sitting down.  I wasn't angry or anything, I just felt like there was no way I could do these things they were asking me to do.  They wheeled me to maternity (I was still leaking fluid, afterall) and asked me questions on the way.  They called my midwife, got me into a room and told me I'd have to wait to be checked and monitored.  Again, I couldn't do this.  I wanted to get in the bathtub.  I remember them telling me I'd have to wait, and then leaving.  They didn't come back!  So I did it myself (with help from Rebecca and DH once they realized I was not going to abide by what I was told). 

When they came back and checked me at 3 o'clock I was 8 cm.  This made me feel better, knowing that I had every right to be having a tough time at that point.  I almost wish I'd arrived earlier, because at that point I had a really hard time complying with their requests.  They wanted to monitor the baby for 15 minutes before letting me labor freely.  A reasonable request, but it was torture to not move.  Things went so fast from there that I never really felt like I got my feet beneath me.  I wish I'd had a little more time to settle in before labor picked up so much.

By 3:20 there was only a tiny lip of cervix left.  But we were having problems with Greta's heart rate.  It kept dropping to uncomfortably low levels, so they put an internal fetal scalp monitor on her.  I was having the urge to push, but the lip of cervix wasn't gone until ~4 pm.  After about an hour and a half of pushing, Greta was not really descending.  She was somewhat twisted, and we continued to have problems with her heart rate.  I felt like this was becoming a mirror of MJ's birth.  The difference was that with MJ, I had an epidural at this point and felt like I just wasn't pushing effectively because of it.  This time I could feel everything and was pushing, but just didn't feel her get anywhere.  She was stuck at +1 or +2, I think.  I was starting to shake really badly with each contraction and became convinced I needed an epidural.  Largely, I felt like I had to do something to change what was happening.  Because we'd tried lots of positions, etc., and all that was happening is that I was getting exhausted and she wasn't moving.  I was starting to become so convinced this would end in c-section that I wanted to change something.  I also found myself making peace with MJ's birth, because I started to think that it was my anatomy and not anything I did. I knew that the epidural might lead to a c-section, but I felt like I was already heading that way and maybe it would help me rest.

At 5:30 they gave me some fentanyl, which I don't recall provided any relief.  At 6:10 the epidural was in.  Having to sit still through those contractions was absolute torture, but it went in without a problem.  It started to take effect soon after and they let me rest until about 8:00.  During that time, I had my right leg resting on a peanut (which looks like a large, peanut shaped birth ball) with the hope that my contractions would turn her into a better position.  At 8 I started pushing again, but there were two issues.  Her heart rate kept dropping unless I was in one particular position (which was not the position I needed to push from).  So every time I pushed I had to rearrange myself, then go back to another position so her heartrate returned to normal.  Furthermore, I couldn't feel when the contraction was coming so the timing was problematic.  They were concerned enough about Greta's heartrate section that they called the OB in from home.

 This looked even more like it was heading towards a C-section.  If I had gone with any other OB practice I still think it would have.  Between the time the OB was called and the time she arrived, we figured some things out.  We were able to turn the epidural down to the point that I could feel the contractions well enough to know when to push.  This also helped Greta's heart rate; it still fell a bit when I was pushing, but wasn't as dramatic or prolonged.  When the OB arrived, rather than suggesting a C-section, she labored with me for a while, then went into the other room and let my midwife take over again.  I was very impressed (in retrospect) at the way she dealt with everything.

By 8:45 I was into active pushing.  I recall at 9:30 asking how much longer they felt it would take, because I needed to mentally gear myself up if we were looking at hours still.  I could feel myself wearing out again.  But they told me no, we were close.  We were not talking about hours still.  Shortly thereafter I remember feeling her hairy little head with my hand; one of the oddest feeling things I've ever experienced.  And at 10:08 she was born!

The activity immediately after she was born was frenzied.  There was a lot of meconium, so they had a whole team in place in case she was in bad shape.  The cord was around her neck, which was what was causing the heart rate drops.  They let DH cut the cord then rushed her to the little NICU table (not sure what the real name for it is) to suction her; she took a breath before being suctioned, but didn't show any detrimental effects from it.

It was all pretty awesome.  I felt pretty ecstatic it had worked out.  I didn't feel the rush of "I can do anything" that so many women talk about.  I mainly just felt really freaking lucky that this didn't end in a c-section.

In retrospect, if we have another kid, I'm not sure if I would try for another VBAC.  I felt like we so narrowly squeaked by that I'm not confident another birth wouldn't end in C-section.  Last time, I attributed all of my recovery to the C-section, but this birth showed me there was still quite a bit from a vaginal birth.  Much more than I expected.  Yes, the recovery was easier than with a C-section, but if I had to put a number on it the recovery was still about half as bad, maybe a little more.  My greatest fear is pushing for a long time and still getting a C-section, and I'm not convinced that wouldn't happen again.  Only time will tell, and only if we decide to have another kid. 

The rest of our stay in the hospital was pretty uneventful.  She nursed pretty well, we got some rest.  MJ loved meeting her for the first time, and you can see in the picture below she was already stealing her things.  There is, of course, always more to say.  But this post has been a week and a half in the works, so time to just hit "Publish" already...

The first month

Apparently I lied, and the birth story is still pending.  Because I haven't even started it yet, so clearly it's not done yet. 

Instead I will share with you the minutiae of Greta's first month on this earth.

She came home two days after she was born, and the next day her Grandmother arrived.  We planned that trip in advance, but the timing worked out perfectly.  Even just one night with two parents and two children was rough, so we were thankful for her arrival.  She stayed for three weeks, and the third week Greta's uncle came out.  We were sad/terrified to see them go, but have adjusted well.  Over the past week, Greta has started to give us a consistent 5 hour stretch at night.  This is usually followed by 2 hours of total wakefulness, and a couple more hours of fitful sleep.  However, a couple nights in the past week she has eaten and then gone straight to back to sleep.  So hopefully that becomes a thing. 

The night of rough sleep is usually followed by MJ waking up at 7 o'clock.  We put a fake clock that has hands permanently at 7 o'clock to put next to her real clock, and have told her she can't leave her room until they match.  It works, sort of. 

Although breastfeeding has been challenging, I am proud to say she hasn't had a drop of formula.  We spent most of our month pumping and bottle feeding, but this past week we've been nursing more.  Last night I nursed her when she woke up, she ate and fell right back asleep.  It was awesome.  I hope it happens again.  I've gone for half a day now without pumping, just breastfeeding, and it seems to go pretty well.  She's still pretty slow, but getting faster, sometimes about 30-40 minutes.  I actually think we might have luck just breastfeeding at this point, but I'm so nervous about having my supply tank that I just don't want to go there.  I'm so used to freezing some every day that if I go a day without I get nervous that my supply is going down.  I've purposely tried to reduce my supply a bit just so I'm more comfortable, and then I found myself nervous and ramped it up again.  It has definitely been a 2-steps-forward 1-step-back endeavor, but we're getting there.  Not sure what our plan is now, we'll just take it day by day and do whatever seems to be working. 

As for Miss Greta, we got our first smile out of her last Friday, two days shy of 4 weeks.  It was absolutely amazing.  Her smiles are still few, but I find myself working hard to earn them.  She's absolutely addicted to her Nuk; not much for swaddling, but it helps keep the Nuk in so she'll tolerate it.  She's been sleeping in a rock n' play next to our bed, has yet to even take a nap in her crib.  We'll get there, I suppose.  Hasn't even crossed my mind to try, yet.  I enjoy having her close.  I have also loved the month of cuddling.  The first week or two I found myself addicted to holding her.  I felt like I was going through withdrawals if I woke up after a stretch of sleep without having her in my arms.  I've become a little more sane about it now.  I spend enough time holding her every day that my arm hurts, and that has been enough to satisfy me.  As much as I have loved this cuddly newborn stage, the smiles have reminded me how much fun there is to come. 

MJ has really been a phenomenal big sister.  No part of her seems jealous of the time or attention that Greta receives.  She loves being helpful, and is expert at helping pop Greta's Nuk back in when she spits it out.  Greta was born with a wound on her hand from sucking on it so much, so the suck reflex is strong in her.  Although at first she was a bit rough with Greta (not in a mean way, just in a rambunctious toddler sort of way) she has become more gentle and seems to understand the need to be calm around her.  I know much will change when Greta is older, but I couldn't ask for a better start to their future relationship. 

It concerns me a bit that no part of me is missing work.  A month spent with an infant; shouldn't I miss the company of adults?  I do miss that a bit, but it's not like I had much company at work, most of it was silent computer stuff.  Three more months to go.  That doesn't sound like enough at this point. Already the thought of leaving this peanut is rough.

That's all I've got for the moment.  As for the photos, I'm hoping that will be easier to sustain than the little signs I made last time.  Only time will tell.  Soon, I'm sure she'll want to knock them over. 

Tradeoffs

Many of you already know this.  But let me tell you a secret:

Two kids is hard. 

It donned on me today, as I strolled through Target to buy some diapers, (Greta has a wicked rash that is not going away, so I've had to stash the cloth) that if we were worse parents we wouldn't be so tired. 

Which is not to suggest that we're amazing parents.  Or that those who don't adhere to some of the things we do are bad parents.  Simply that letting some things go would make life easier.  Specifically, giving into conveniences.  I rarely buy groceries at Target, I usually buy them at the local co-op.  This is a source of tension between hubs and I, because he points out, rightly so, that buying organic is much more expensive.  I maintain that it's important.  Furthermore, I have found that shopping at the co-op has changed my food habits.  I don't really buy convenience foods.  I don't buy much meat.  I cook most things from scratch, or close to it.  I think that establishing good food habits is incredibly important, so I try not to keep a lot of junk food in the house.  I try to cook nutritious foods most nights.  If I let these things go?  My life would be easier.

MJ rarely watches TV.  I think TV has some great aspects to it, I just see what she does when she's not glued to the TV and it seems so much better for her.  She runs.  She plays.  She colors.  She imagines.  It's harder on me, and sometimes I want to stick her in front of the TV.  But I so rarely let her she doesn't even ask me to watch TV anymore, she just plays as, I think, a 3 year old should.  It requires a lot more supervision.  I like to think it's a lot better for her.

These are two big ones in which I feel we are probably not in the norm.  At least not based on what I read on blogs and hear from others.  I was thinking today that I should make a list of priorities, and then cut off the latter half.  Just accept that they will not get done.  Would this make me more sane?  I'm not sure where a lot of things would land.  Showers.  Exercise (for me, MJ gets a lot).  This blog.  It would be hard to rank it all.

As for Greta, babies are pretty easy.  Priority:  keep them from crying.  Breastfeeding.  That's all there really is.  I'm not sure that I think breastfeeding is as important as all the time it takes suggests it should be.  What if I gave up breastfeeding and instead insured all the non-infants get nutritious home made meals?  Which is more important? 

Get ready for an extended metaphor.

Having our first kid was hard.  It was as though, after years of an economy that was gangbusters, a recession hit and we had to cut the budget.  It was painful.  We had to decide what was truly necessary.  But a lot of what was difficult was adjusting to a new normal, where freewheeling spending was not the norm.  Having a second kid, though, is a deepening recession.  We feel as though we've already made the cuts that could be made.  So then what do you cut?  When everything is important, what do you decide is less worthwhile?

Some day my kids may be offended that I compared them to an economic recession.  Which is why my next post will be my birth story, maybe the horror of all that vag talk will distract them.

Survival

We are in full on survival mode.  Today marks three weeks on earth for Greta.  But survival with the second is different than survival with the first.  Survival with the second actually entails a lot more fun, because you force yourself to get out and do fun things to keep your first born's life as normal as possible. 

It also means a lot of things that weren't problematic with the first born become problematic with the second born.  Greta is still not nursing well.  Though we have gotten off the nipple shield (which we started using in the hospital) and she is taking in quite a lot of milk when she nurses, it takes her over an hour to do it, and we usually still have to supplement with some pumped milk afterwards.  With MJ, I could have just sat around and nursed all day.  Not too much of a problem.  Because we still have family in town, I technically could sit around and nurse all day now, but that would essentially mean not spending any time with MJ.  It just doesn't seem worth it.  So I've been pumping and giving her bottles most of the day, and we get in one or two good nursing sessions a day.  I'm hoping that as long as we can continue some amount, then when she gets stronger and less sleepy we can start just nursing rather than having to pump as well.  I'm skeptical at this point that that will ever happen, and we'll see what we're capable of once my mother-in-law leaves on Tuesday.  We're aiming for sanity.  Not sure what form that will take.  On the upside, though, my supply is pretty phenomenal.  If any of you remember my angst ridden posts back in MJ's early days, my supply sucked.  It never got very good.  We had to supplement with formula early on, then we had a few weeks without formula, and then I never managed to keep up and always had to supplement.  This time around, I probably have over 200 ounces frozen (ridiculous!!!) and am actually having some over supply issues.  I had heard that whatever foundation you lay the first time you breastfeed, you build upon that with the second.  I hadn't expected such an increase, but it makes me glad that I continued to try to breastfeed MJ for as long as I did despite our issues, because it seems to have paid off. 

Other ramblings.  I am only awake at this moment because I took a nap earlier, and now I can't sleep.  That is the downside to the "sleep when the baby sleeps" mantra.  MIL's departure coincides with the beginning of a rough stretch of work for DH.  I continue to wonder how I'm going to survive having to pump and give a bottle with every night waking, being awake much of the night and then getting up and being a functional parent with MJ.  All without DH around.  I find the whole concept daunting.  Even just the logistics of pumping and bottle feeding are confusing to me.  How do you console a baby that needs soothing while you're pumping?  It would be nice if I could wake up before she does to pump, but I've tried that and then she wakes up while I'm pumping and melts down.  Oy.  So we need to figure all that out.  She is not a great sleeper.  I know she's still very much in the realm of normal, but we've been getting a 3-hr, 3-hr, 2-hr pattern nightly for a while now.  She sleeps a ton during the day, we're just trying to convince her to move it to night time.  MJ was such a phenomenal sleeper so early on that we were spoiled.  If we could just get some 4 hour stretches I think it would make a world of difference. 

As for MJ, she's doing phenomenal.  She's sweet to her sister, loves to help, and is generally just a great kid.  She seems to have a harder time separating from us than she did, which I'm not shocked by.  Her tantrums have been more intense, and she's just been more emotional in general.  But I'm not sure if I attribute that to having a new baby, or just to her age. 

We got a date night last night, it was amazing!  In general it seems too early to be leaving Greta, but I know we won't get another chance for quite a long time, so DH's mom watched the girls for us.  It was absolutely phenomenal to spend some time with just DH.  It's nice to remember sometimes how this all began. 

Blogger get-together! Tomorrow!

I should have posted this a while ago.  But, you know, busy and what-not.

Tomorrow (Sunday, August 19th) is a Blogger get-together.  You should come.  Because I've met some of my closest friends through blogging.  That seems weird to me, but it's true.  So it makes me really curious to find out what other amazing women are out there in the blogosphere.  The details are here:

http://erinkristine.blogspot.com/2012/07/mn-blogger-get-together-rescheduled.html

Before and After

 

Photo 1: Shortly before leaving for the hospital (but not too shortly or that smile wouldn't have been so big.)
Photo 2:  5 days post partum. 

I'm not sure that this truly captures the size of my belly.  It's almost like tie dye is belly camouflage. 

Some photos of our summer

This was a post I was working on a few days before Greta was born.  I was feeling bad about not doing anything fun with MJ this summer, but after looking through some photos felt better about the whole thing.  Turns out we've had a pretty great summer so far. 

 

The first week

Well, it's been 8 days.  Almost exactly, actually.  Because 8 days ago at this time, I was asking the midwife how much longer she thought I'd be pushing, because if it was going to be hours still, I really needed to gear myself up for it.  But that's a different story, and a different post.

Greta was born at 10:08 on July 29th.  8 lbs 6 oz, which I didn't think sounded that big, until I looked it up; it's apparently between 75 and 90th percentile for weight.  Also 90th percentile for head circumference and length.  So a big girl.  That 21 week ultrasound that pegged her at 90th percentile?  Spot on, apparently.  1 lb and 4 oz bigger than her sister.  I'm curious if Greta will be the tall one. 

I'll give away the end to the birth story, which is that we did have a successful VBAC (though just barely).  As of 2006, only 8.5% of women with a previous C-section later gave birth vaginally.  That is a phenomenally low number.  I know some of them are necessary or for safety reasons.  I don't judge women who get c-sections, because I've been there.  I just feel like it needs to be discussed more, because having been through both, I can attest to how much better it is to recover from a vaginal birth than a c-section.  One week out I'm doing things that took a month to accomplish last time.  In Greta's first week of life, she went to Target, a restaurant, the zoo, a county fair and the farmer's market.  I realized at the end of yesterday I needed to tone it down a bit, but it's so nice to feel so much better.

If you want photos, check out my twitter feed.  Actually uploading them to the computer feels a bit daunting right now.  If I had posted a few days ago I would have been a bit more overwhelmed, but I now feel with it enough to say things are going pretty well.  Breast feeding has been challenging, because Greta isn't much for actually sucking.  We had four days without a bowel movement, lots of screaming, and a very unhappy baby.  I worried about colic, or worse.  But a visit to the lactation consultant confirmed she wasn't getting enough milk, despite having nursed 20 times that day.  I remember a similar thing happening with MJ; I thought I was nursing so much this time that it couldn't possibly be the same, but I was wrong.   So now I'm pumping and supplementing.  Once we started that, she refused to nurse AT ALL for a couple days.  Now we're back to nursing for a while, followed by supplementing, followed by pumping.  It easily makes feeding an hour+ long process, and I'm hoping she figures it out soon, because I can't keep that up.  With MJ it was easier, because my only job was to parent her.  Now there are two, and spending an hour nursing one while disregarding another seems ridiculous.  I'm trying to avoid going to exclusively pumping, but timewise it would make so much more sense.  I just know how much pumping sucks, and how burnt out I will get with it (already am with it) in the long run.

DH's mom has been visiting for the past week, and will be here for two more weeks.  The help has been wonderful.  DH starts back to work in a couple days, and I'm already dreading it.  Having him home has been wonderful.

As for MJ, she's adjusting well.  The time away from us while we were at the hospital was hard on her; since we have no family in town, she stayed with a dear friend of ours.  I think she did okay while she was away, but the meltdown when she saw us and met her sister was intense.  MISSING BIG THINGS is hard, and I think she felt like she was excluded for a short time.  But she loves her sister, and is always excited to give her hugs and kisses.  When I asked her to help find baby's Nuk she was ecstatic to be helping.  And then the rest of the time she just goes about her business.  We've been trying to keep things normal for her, but I think she's feeling a bit socially withdrawn.  During a normal week we go somewhere with her almost every evening, and she sees lots of friends.  We've toned that down a bit and she is clearly bummed about it. 

Alright, much more to say.  But bedtime, and the few hours of sleep that might occur, calls.

39 weeks

 

I had to fight the urge to forgo posting that second picture, because I look like a hot, sweaty mess.  But really, that's probably what I look like all of the time, so I might as well be authentic, and MJ is looking awfully sweet.  The belly is a full fledged seat these days.

I had my 39 week appointment today.  Pretty much zero progress.  I know these things supposedly mean nothing, but the scientist in me wants every data point possible.  I can't help feeling that if we actually plotted all of this data on effacement, dilation and eventual delivery, there really would be something useful there.  But Google Scholar showed me nothing useful on the subject.  It's almost like OB's want to study useful things like how to prevent pre-term labor and when induction is appropriate.  My impatient curiosity doesn't seem to be significant enough.

A woman in Target the other day informed me that I have dropped.  She says she used to be a labor and delivery nurse.  I've had a few people telling me this for weeks, but I actually agree with this woman.  The pelvic pressure has been much more severe the past few days.  Apparently I'm -1 station, which I think is what I was last week, but this week I feel it more.

In general, I've done a better job this week of just letting it be.  Embracing our time as a family of three.  I think this was helped by some random contractions about a week ago that were quite painful.  And all of a sudden I remembered, oh yeah, this is kind of going to suck.  In general, if I know something is going to suck I just want to be done with it.  But at that moment I decided it can wait a little longer.

I'm trying not to wish the summer away.  Between the intense heat and just wanting to be done, I'm having a hard time.  I had plans to take MJ to the pool so much this summer.  So far?  Not once.  That sounds super lame.  I'm still working to get the nursery ready, making curtains and sewing a banner.  I love how it's coming along.  Will post pictures soon.  I suspect I will keep working on it until the baby comes, just because I can, and then will call it done whenever she arrives.

My most awkward pregnancy moment of the week.  In the locker room after swim lessons, standing there in my maternity swimsuit with MJ, waiting for the one shower.  A VERY obese woman walks by, looks at me and says "Oy!  I wouldn't want to be you, you look so uncomfortable!"  I smile and say something innocuous, meanwhile thinking "You look way more uncomfortable than I feel."  But then, as the woman waddles away, MJ yells out "Why is she walking like that?  What's wrong with her?"  Thankfully the woman responded by turning around and saying "I have bad knees" because I had not a clue what to say to her at that instant.

I'm not sure what else I have to say.  I'm tired of all the commentary.  I know people are trying to be nice and friendly, but it just gets so old.  I dread the elevator ride, because I always get bombarded.  I'm tired of work, even though the alternative would be staying at home in a hot house.  I'm tired of getting so fatigued by a short walk.  I have to remind myself I'm dragging around an extra 44 lbs of weight, of course that's tiring (and thankfully my weight has plateaued these last weeks.)  Also, thankfully, I got a surge of energy about a week and a half ago.  Nesting, possibly?  Though I don't remember having it with MJ.  But I don't feel nearly as fatigued as I did, and I enjoy having the energy to cook and get stuff done again.  I'm tired of none of my clothes fitting.

I'm tired of the unknown.  DH doesn't understand why I'm making myself so crazy.  The best analogy I can think of is that I've just taken a very long hike, and on top of that I know I need to run a marathon, it's going to start soon, I just don't know when.  But I have to keep hiking until the marathon starts.  So the longer it goes, the more tired I'll be.  Get it?  Probably no.  But that's what I've got.

And then there was my freakout trip to labor and delivery last week.  Because she had decreased dramatically in movement.  And I woke up in the middle of the night, couldn't get her to move, and drove myself to L&D.  Pretty hysterical.  Panicking, probably.  She was totally fine, and she's back to her old level of movement, but that's apparently what late pregnancy does to me.  It's hard for me to accept that a baby who only moves five times in an hour is doing fine, when she generally moves that often in a five minute span. 

So there you have it.  I'm still loving Spacefem's statistics, which tells me I have about a 3% chance of delivering today, which will climb to ~6% per day at the end of the week.  That being said, I have only about a 30% chance of delivering by the end of the week.  But about a 75% chance of delivering in the next two weeks (all of these are non-induced numbers).  The last two weeks has pretty much flown by, so perhaps the next two will as well.

Working? (aka full term)

I had my performance review yesterday.  It was mediocre.  I have been mediocre.  It was also a probationary review, because I started here just over 6 months ago and that's how long my probationary period lasts.  After that I'm fully unionized and, you know, unions.  Love them or hate them, it is true that it's harder to fire a union employee.  So they make sure they like you before it's too hard to fire you.  

So, despite the fact that I’m mediocre and very pregnant and about to leave for several months, they are keeping me.  There was a small part of me that almost wanted them to let me go so that I have an excuse to not be here.  This is probably part of what makes me mediocre.  Also, I’m only here 75% of the time, so I simply don’t get as much done as other folks.  And I’m just not that excited about this job.  It’s good but not great.  I still see the potential for it to get a lot better, and part of the reason it hasn’t been great is just circumstances beyond anyone’s control.  Projects that haven’t gone as planned.  What is great is the hours.  And the flexibility.  It fits in so well with our family.  I feel like I still get to see my daughter a ton, and yet it keeps me sane and keeps my skills up.  Even though I don’t love it, I never dread it, so that’s something.  And, like I said, I keep hoping it will get better. 

It is a new thing to me, though, to be mediocre and be 100% fine with that.  While I’ve been okay with not being the best, I like to do good work and earn awards and accolades.  Now?  I just don’t care.  Does that do a disservice to women in the workplace?  I don’t really know, but it’s something I think about.  I hate to fit the stereotype, but here I am, fitting the stereotype.  Does that bother anyone else?

The other reason I’m mediocre right now, is that I’m just very pregnant.  I’m uncomfortable.  I’m distracted.  I don’t want to start new projects.  I hope that each day at the office will be my last for a long while. 

Things are starting to feel very close.  As I may have mentioned, I have it firmly lodged in my head that I will go early.  I wish I didn’t have this in my head, because I may still have a month (or a little more!) left.  This is, I think, the hardest part of pregnancy.  The discomfort isn’t great, but it doesn’t mess with my head.  The waiting messes with my head.  Each day could be like any other, or could be completely life changing.  If you walked out of your house in the morning and had a 0.5% chance (my current odds of going into labor on any given day) of your life changing in a dramatic, important and permanent way, wouldn’t that be hard to live with?  And what about when it becomes a 5% chance, the odds once I get closer to 40 weeks?  It’s not enough of a chance to plan for, and not enough of a chance to ignore.  That’s where my head’s at. 

I recently found this awesome website:

http://spacefem.com/pregnant/charts/duedate0.php

If you are as obsessed with labor statistics as I am at this moment, check it out.  This woman has a simple survey to compile statistics, and currently has over 2300 respondents.  Although there are some statistical issues with this method, there are with any method, and as her number of respondents goes up I think it becomes a more and more powerful tool.  Among the more interesting parts is her finding that second time moms actually go into labor, on average, later than they did with their first.  This means I would go into labor close to 41 weeks, not early. 

I pulled out my birth books the other day.  I read through MJ’s birth story.  That’s the first time I’ve read it in a long, long time and I came away feeling a lot more upbeat about the whole thing.  I forgot how low her heartrate got.  I forgot how much distress she was in.  One thing I have decided is that puking was the worst part of labor, not pain.  I avoided anti-nausea medications last time, because I didn’t want meds, and this time I’ve decided I’ll do whatever I can to avoid the nausea, because that’s what put me over the edge. 

I’ve also started to become a bit nervous about my water breaking unexpectedly.  It’s fairly rare (~10%) for your water to break before labor begins, but that’s what actually started my labor last time.  It may have been a random occurrence, or it may be how I labor.  I won’t know until it happens, and I’m hoping it won’t happen in public.  In addition, once my water broke, my labor was on.  So I’m nervous that I’ll get stuck somewhere, with hubs working an hour away in the middle of a long shift he can’t just leave, me with MJ and in so much pain I can’t drive.  These are the things I fret about. 

My mom visited for the past week and left yesterday.  It was so nice to have her here.  The help and the distraction were much appreciated.  We got the nursery ~85% complete; I’m excited to post pictures but want to wait until it’s done.  So you may have to wait for some finishing touches. 

And now that my Mom has left MJ must just deal with me.  I’m just a lump these days, and I feel bad for her.  Yesterday I tried to take MJ and Vito for a walk.  I seriously made it two blocks and nearly cried in pain.  Round ligament pain, I think.  I had to sit down on some random guy’s lawn to collect myself, then hobbled back home with dog and toddler, barely containing myself.  I’m sure that most people who saw me thought I was having contractions, because I am that pregnant and was clearly in that much pain.  But what kind of crazy person would take their toddler and dog for a walk while having contractions?  So my abilities are severely limited right now.  My legs feel restless from lack of activity, but the rest of my body just can’t handle it. 

Also, lots of cramping this week, but no real contractions.  At my midwife appointment yesterday I was 4-5 cm dilated at the outside and 1-2 on the inside (so essentially 1-2 cm).  It’s nice to know that all this pain is at least getting me somewhere and accomplishing something.  Up 43 pounds.  Down a lot of sleep.  It happened suddenly, but starting about 5 days ago sleep got really, really crappy.  I have discovered, though, that since the weather cooled down I can deal with this pregnancy thing a lot better.  Just trying to take it one day at a time.  One week at a time.  One midwife appointment at a time.  Trying very hard not to wish this time away, because I know full well how precious it is.  Like I said, it’s just the not knowing.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate this time, but the suspense is sometimes too much.  Coupled with the discomfort. 

I guess that belly is a bit low

36 weeks, 2 days

36 weeks.

I should start this post by saying that I won't be offended if you want to step away from my blog for the next few weeks.  I know I'm being whiny.  I know deep down that I'm lucky and my discomforts are minor and temporary.  But this is my blog, and therefore this is where I whine.

Today's appointment was an odd one, mostly because it was the first one I've taken MJ to.  And because I had an internal exam that I forgot about.  I always try to shower for those.  Oops.

The appointment started with me peeing in a cup.  I find it odd that my midwife practice makes me do this at every appointment.  Is this normal for other folks?  During MJ's pregnancy (in a completely different office) I remember maybe once or twice being checked for protein.  I can't help but think this is just a ratcheting up of health care costs with unnecessary tests.

MJ was pretty fascinated by the concept of peeing in a cup.  She was only willing to go potty afterwards if I promised her that she did not have to pee in a cup.

The exam was fine, and thankfully MJ listened and sat in the chair (next to my head) for the actual exam.  I'm not too worried about traumatizing her, but I'm certain she would share whatever she learned with anyone who will listen at the 4th of July party, thus traumatizing me.  Mostly she just liked that it was an actual doctor's office, with an examining table, stethoscope, etc., just like in her books.

I'm up 41.5 pounds, which is half a pound in the last two weeks.  A much more respectable weight gain than the rest of my pregnancy, thankfully.  Furthermore, I'm 75% effaced and "baby is really low".  The midwife didn't use any words like engaged, etc., but kept reiterating that she was really low, asking if I felt like she was low.  I have been wondering this, given the random (and crippling) shooting pains in my pelvis.  It doesn't really feel like she dropped, because my belly seems to be in the same place.  But hearing this makes me at least feel like I'm not crazy for feeling like I'm so close.  I realize that these numbers don't really mean anything, I could still deliver at 42 weeks, but that's progress I don't have to worry about making later.

I am entering the bitching stage of pregnancy (I may have been in it for a while).  I am not a glowing pregnant lady.  Until recently I've at least been a happy pregnant lady, but I'm past that, too.  I've been whining a lot.  And grumbling a lot.  About the heat.  About pelvic pain.  About peeing ALLTHETIME.  About round ligament pain, which is much worse than last time around.  Probably because I had so much back and hip pain I was largely immobile (in that I simply didn't move) and didn't have the opportunity for the weight of my belly to be a problem.

I know this is nature's way of making us glad for the approaching discomfort that is labor and having a newborn.  When labor was done last time, I recall thinking how much better that was than pregnancy.  Having a newborn seemed so much more pleasant than being pregnant.  But labor and newbornhood is tough, so late pregnancy HAS to suck this much or we wouldn't feel this way.

I've discussed this theory of mine with other women.  I don't think most of them agree.

In other news, our mice are back.  Aren't they supposed to be living outside in the Minnesota summer while they can?  Also, our dining room lights no longer work and our third floor shower leaks into my daughter's bedroom.  I love having a 109 year old house.

(almost) 96 degrees and (almost) 36 weeks

Top ten things about being really pregnant when it's really hot.
1) swollen feet can only fit in flip flops anyway.
2) ice cream. All the time.
3) not only do I not have the energy to cook, but it's simply too hot. Two birds, one stone.
4) knowing that strapping a newborn to my chest would probably be even hotter. Enjoy it while it lasts.
5) swimming cools you off and makes you feel weightless. Bird, stone.
6) ice cream. All the time.
7) toddlers are usually willing to pick up everything off the floor that I can no longer reach. (not relevant but whatevs)
8) I'm having a really hard time thinking of ten things.
9) you'd be peeing a lot from all the water you have to ingest anyway? Bird, stone.
10) no need to wear pants. Ever.
This and two and six are really the only ones that count.