Not a Happy Helper

In the time it took to grab the camera, the happy baby turned into a sweat bee right before my eyes.
This is now the wallpaper on my computer desktop. I was trying to catch a smile, but she wouldn't do it for me. She was too busy trying to figure out the camera.

This is the picture I've been waiting for - not of my double chin, but of her sweet chunky cheeks resting on her crossed arms. This is how she falls asleep after the morning feeding. Sometimes she purses her lips together and looks even cuter.

And, this is the reason I have time to blog. As I write, she is passed out in the swing. I took this picture minutes ago.
I was reading my baby reference book this morning and realized that she is practicing some movements and actions that babies aren't supposed to start doing until they are 3 - 4 months old. I'm going to have my hands full with this one.

One of These Things is Not Like The Other

I guess Boppy pillows aren't just for babies; it's perfect for snuggling sweet kittens, too.



Doesn't Ella Grace look like she's thinking hard in that picture? Dave always puts her in the Boppy and talks to her after he feeds her. I'm sure she was deep in thought during their conversation.

I took that picture of her a couple of weeks ago and she has really chunked up since then. Dave commented last night that she's turning into a fat baby. She does have a double chin now and fatter cheeks - more like I had when I was a baby. I explained to him that she will probably get chunky for a while until she starts crawling, then she'll slim right down. I'm not worried about overfeeding at this point because breastfed babies know when they are full and stop eating. It's when you override that instinct and make them finish a bottle that they start getting too fat.

She has a lot more control over her hands these days. She frequently comforts herself by sucking on her fist. It's so cute. She can see a lot better, too. I have definitely seen her looking at the animals and I've caught her watching the TV a couple of times. I'm sure it's amazing to her with all that color and movement. She has been to church for three weeks in a row now, and last week she was awake the whole time. She LOVES the music. I was holding her while we were singing and she was leaning back, watching my face the whole time. She made it to the last ten minutes of the sermon before I had to take her out because she was finished sitting quietly. She needed to play. I took her to the foyer and laid her on the couch and she was a happy, smiley baby.

Daddies and Daughters

Dave finally got the chance to sing Ella to sleep the other night. Most nights I have to nurse her to sleep, but this night she ate before her bath so she was ready for bed. Although he knows the words to a vast repertoire of songs - some not so appropriate for tiny babies - he was singing songs that are typically learned in Sunday school or Bible school. In the true spirit of faith, he was really getting into it while singing "Father Abraham had many sons..." Each time he sang the words "right hand, left hand" he got more and more enthusiastic so that the tiny baby eyes would pop open again. I had to remind him that the goal was to sing her to sleep; we can instill an appropriate praise and worship attitude at a time other than bed time. Have I mentioned that I love this man?
This is a picture from her first bath as a real baby. I blacked out her girlie parts so as not to be accused of putting kiddie porn on the Internet. I'm sure she'll thank me for it one day, too. :) She really enjoys the bath; she kicks her legs the whole time and she doesn't cry at all when she gets water in her face. Our only issue is keeping her from slipping too deep into the water. Wet babies are slippery little boogers. In related Dave silliness, Ella and I were sitting in the living room in the middle of the night having a snack when Dave came in. It isn't unusual for us to pass each other in the wee hours of the morning because he has worse sleep habits than a baby; however, this time he was carrying his pillow and he said, "Oh, you've got her." I agreed; I did indeed have her. He said, "I thought I had her. She needed an incline." Huh? At the time, I thought he meant that she needed to be propped up in her little bed but he later told me he meant in the bath tub. Apparently in his dream, she was slipping down into the water and needed to be propped up again. :) Some of our funniest conversations happen when he's asleep.

Oh the Places We Have Eaten

My daughter is a piggy piglet. She LOVES to eat.

Because I am breastfeeding, feeding her is very convenient for me. She just eats where ever we may be and I don't have to worry about making bottles. There is always milk available and it's always the right temperature. It seems that when she smells grown up food, she gets hungry and needs to eat, too. I think this because I have now fed her in the Olive Garden, in Cracker Barrel, and in McDonalds. Every time I am out to lunch, I have to feed her while we are there or right after. I think it's funny. I have also fed her in the pediatrician's office, in my doctor's office, at church, at both sets of parents' houses, and at my sister's house. Our list of new places she has eaten is steadily growing.

When I decided I would breastfeed, I wasn't sure how I would feel about nursing in public. I really didn't know if I would have the guts to do it or if I would just pump and take bottles when we left the house. Well, suffice it to say that after three days in the hospital of feeding her while the entire world streamed in and out of my room, I realized that I am completely comfortable pulling out a boob to feed my child when she's hungry and it doesn't matter who is around to see it. Yes, I'm proud to say I am one of those women who will feed my child in the grocery store if she happens to be hungry while we are there. For anyone who has issue with women who nurse their children in public, I'll say these two things. Number one, the state of Alabama protects my right to breastfeed my child where ever I am allowed to be. Number two, you can see more boob on TV, magazine covers, and the Internet than you will see when I am feeding my baby, so put on your big girl panties and deal with it.

I love breastfeeding. I love that she loves it. I love the convenience, and I love knowing that I have the secret fix when nothing else will calm my crying baby. I love it when she smiles at me and sighs tiny baby sighs while she's eating. I love the snuggle time - especially in the middle of the night and early in the morning when she's so cute in her pajamas. Let's face it, she's going to grow up fast and she won't always want to be snuggly with me, and I won't always be able to fix her hurts, and she won't always need me. So, I'm going to soak up every minute that I get to hold and feed and cuddle her, even if I have to leave my own plate of food to get cold because I'm the only one that will do.

A Real Baby

According to Dave, we now have a real baby. Think Pinnochio losing his strings. Ella's cord stump finally fell off yesterday at exactly three weeks old. We were going to celebrate with a real bath last night, but that didn't work out so we'll celebrate tonight.

Ella had the ultrasound on her hips yesterday and while they are not dislocated (which we knew) they seem to be a little under developed. We are waiting on a referral to an orthopedist to find out what we need to do next. Hopefully, we will have an appointment to see one next week. I am not going to worry about this because I am faithfully praying that her hips will be normal the next time they look at them. She just seems too normal for there to be much of a problem. She already has strong legs - she pushes off of things and stands on them when you put her feet on a flat surface while you are holding her. We will wait in faith on this one - what else can I do?

Like her mother, she is quickly becoming a creature of habit. Bath time is between 8 and 8:30 p.m. and if she isn't having a bath during that time she is ticked. The other night, we were late bathing her and she was being a sweat bee (that's what we call a fussy baby). Dave had her lying on the counter, undressing her and as soon as she heard the water turn on she quit crying. It was hilarious. He said, "You already have your mother's timing issues." I guess this means she may have inherited my inflexible nature. Joy. So as it goes right now, we have bath time in the 8 o'clock hour, then nursing, then bed and usually she'll sleep until 2:30 or 3:00. I love it. :)

I almost forgot - apparently breastmilk tastes like a milkshake. We know this because the bottle was leaking when Dave was feeding her the other night and he licked his fingers. Now, when she's finished with her bottle and looking at him with goofy eyes, he tells her she is "milkshake drunk" and it's no wonder she wants to eat all the time. I haven't tasted it myself, so I cannot confirm.

I should be napping..

But, I'm updating this blog instead. We had our two week check ups last week. My incision is healing nicely and I have to go back in three months for the complete follow up appointment. In four more weeks, I'm free to do whatever I want, but until then I still have some restrictions on lifting, exercise, etc.

Ella Grace went to the doctor twice last week. Once because she had a virus - one that I'm now convinced she got from me and passed to Dave, but I don't know where I got it. It wasn't severe and we are all doing better now, but we did have a couple of rough nights. She seems to still be really congested right now, so I'm constantly sucking out her nose. Luckily, she doesn't hate it as much as I remember hating it when I was little. We had her two week check up on Friday and she weighed 8 lbs. Considering she was supposed to be back to her birth weight of 7 lbs. 13 oz., we are doing great! She did not grow any longer this time, but I'm not surprised. Really, she is destined to be a shortie like Dave and myself. Her hips still seem to be fine, but we have an ultrasound scheduled this week to check them. This is standard procedure for a frank breech baby. Because she sat in a V position in the womb with her butt down, they want to make sure her hips are developing normally. She goes back to the doctor in 6 weeks for the two month visit - let's hope we don't have to go again before then for an illness.

She's doing great as far as acting interested in things. She loves to play on her mat in the floor and Dave has been trying to teach her to roll over. She has done it a few times when he gives her leverage to push off of with her feet. She holds her head up a lot and pushes off of me with her arms, so I'm expecting her to have good head control any time now. We are getting some nights with 5 straight hours of sleep, so I'm really hoping that becomes a habit. I would love to have a baby who sleeps through the night early, but I'm not counting on that yet.

Anyway, here are a few new pictures of life around the house.

Sleeping in the Touchdown pose. This is her favorite, and she gets it from her dad.

After a bath and using her new Anne Geddes-like towel. Surprisingly, Dave thought this was cute, but he HATES Anne Geddes's work.

Playing with her own tiny baby doll. She got a good grip on this doll and was slinging it all around.

Finally, ready for her first day at church. She was mad. We don't know why. She did great at church though. We made it through Sunday school and half the service before I had to take her out to feed her. Then we stayed for lunch and she slept through it.

The Art of Swaddling

It was good enough for the baby Jesus, so it's good enough for Ella Grace. This is my "pod-child" all swaddled for her nap.

We get some grumbling about not being able to see her limbs and such, but let me tell you, there is nothing like a good swaddle to calm a fussy baby. I've started leaving her unswaddled more during the day now that she's stretching out her arms and legs, but she gets swaddled for naps and bedtime and any time that she seems fussy or over-stimulated. It generally calms her right down. The other night, she was fussing for reasons I could not discern and Dave suggested I swaddle her. That solved the problem and she was good to go. It's amazing. We learned how to do it in the childbirth class, but I didn't realize I would be such a believer.

What else have we been up to? Mostly eating, sleeping, and pooping. The kid is still quite the pooper. Oh, and now we've added spitting up to our list of accomplishments. I have been peed on, spit up on, and as of today, pooped on. And I love every minute of this - it's so weird. I've nearly decoded her cues that signal when she is about to pee on me during a diaper change so I have quick hands, but this poop thing is brand new. I'll have to start working on that one now.

She is twelve days old today, and she is already showing interest in things around her besides Dave and myself. I'm not sure, but it seems too soon for her to be ready to play with toys, but she is trying. Over the weekend, she realized that there is a mobile hanging over her changing table. I asked Dave if she was looking at the animals, and she was! We wound it up for her and she loved lying there watching it sing and dance for her. It makes changing time more bearable since she HATES being naked - except for when Dave rubs baby lotion on her after her bath, she stretches out and acts like that is a spa treatment. The musical animals just make it all the better, it seems. She also started playing on her play mat yesterday. Dave put her under it and fixed the toys so that she could reach them and she was already trying to hit them - and getting mad when she couldn't. It's amazing to see her growing so quickly. When Dave is in charge, I often find her bouncing in her seat while he plays the keyboard for her. I knew she was going to love music from the way she moved and kicked inside me, and now I have confirmation that she does. She likes singing, too. Dave makes up songs for her all the time and I sing to her at bedtime. It's so funny to watch her stop and listen when you start singing.

Dave, having never been around babies before Ella Grace, is shaping up to be a very hands-on father. He loves feeding her a bottle in the evening and giving her a bath and dressing her. He even picked out her clothes himself yesterday. I love watching him while he cares for her. I'm so proud of him. He comes in from work in the evenings, washes his hands, and takes the baby because he misses her while he is gone. It's so cool and it makes me love him even more.

That's enough rambling for now. I'll try not to dedicate this blog entirely to Ella Grace, but it will be filled with her for a while I'm sure.

Oh, for balance, here is a recent picture of Georgia. She is doing wonderfully around Ella Grace. We haven't had any pouting, and she seems to hold herself responsible for the baby. She lies near her and checks on her whenever someone new holds her. She greets her in the mornings and when she's been away from her for a while with snuffles. I think they will be great friends one of these days.

A Few Tiny Baby Pictures

I just thought I'd share a few of my favorite pictures of Ella Grace's birthday and the days after.

The Birth Story of Ella Grace

The Birth Story of Ella Grace

June 25, 2008 at 7:50 a.m.
7 lbs. 13 oz.
20 ½ inches

We arrived at the hospital at 5:30 a.m. on the 25th of June. I knew she was still in breech position, so we were there for a surgical delivery. We signed in and were shown to the pre-op/recovery room where we met our nurse. I went to change into a gown while Dave handled some admitting stuff and moved our car to the parking deck. While he was gone, the nurse shaved and scrubbed my belly and pubic area. He came back and sat with me while I got the IV in my hand and they did an ultrasound to check the baby’s position. Of course, she was still breech. The doctor stopped by for a few minutes to see if we had any questions, but at this point we pretty much knew what was going to happen.

The anesthesiologist came to start my epidural and Dave had to leave the room. This was the first time I used my hypnotic breathing to relax myself. The epidural was the scariest part for me. It’s a giant needle that is inserted within millimeters of the spinal cord. All kinds of things could go wrong – but they didn’t, praise the Lord. I had to sit up on the edge of the bed while he scrubbed my back, then they told me to lean forward and stick my back out. The nurse had warned me that this would be the hardest part because of my huge belly. She held my hands and I breathed four counts in and eight counts out the way I had been practicing for weeks. I leaned forward so far that they were amazed at how flexible I still was at 10 months pregnant (thanks to all the walking, I’m sure). I felt three little pricks as he numbed the area with a local anesthesia. Then he inserted the tube and put in the test dose of medicine – this is the dose they use to make sure that the needle is actually in the epidural space and not too close to the spinal cord. I had to tell him if I felt ringing in my ears or coldness or tingles in one side of my body; I felt none of those things. Then he said, “You are going to feel a tingle” and POW! An electric shock went down my right leg. I said, “That was more than a tingle!” The medicine was started and he taped up my back so the tube would stay in place. They helped me lie back in bed and I waited as my body started to go numb. He had explained to me that I would feel heavy and that it might feel like I couldn’t breathe, but I would still be breathing. I’m glad we talked about that part because when the numbness got to my chest I really felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. Feeling my body slowly go numb was one of the most bizarre feelings I’ve ever experienced. I did not like it at all. Periodically I had to try to move my toes and bend my knees, and it was just really disconcerting to gradually lose all control of my legs. The more numb I got, the more I shivered – it’s a side effect of the epidural that lasted an hour or so after the surgery was finished, though it was most intense at the beginning. They put warm blankets over me, but it didn’t help much. By the time I got to the operating room, maybe 30 minutes later, my jaw was tired and sore from clenching it against the shivers. I had to make a conscious effort to breathe deeply and relax my jaw, and that seemed to help the shivers some.

After my body was numb from the chest down, the nurse put in my catheter. This was the other thing I was really nervous about, but thanks to the epidural, I didn’t really feel anything. It took about two minutes and she was finished. I was pretty much ready to go, just waiting for them to roll me into the OR. Dave had his sterile outfit and had already put on his shoes and hat. They put a hat on me, too. I know he’ll forgive me for sharing this because he is that kind of man, but he was scared for me and crying before I even went in there. I kept telling him, “It’s going to be okay. I will be okay, the baby will be okay.” He saved the tissue that came with his gown so I can put it in the baby book.

When it was time, they rolled me into the OR and Dave had to wait until they told him to come in. They rolled my bed right up to the table and three people were there to transfer me to the operating table. I said, “This is going to be interesting.” They rolled me onto my side – with me feeling nothing and completely trusting that they would not drop me on the floor – and stuck a roller board under me. They then lifted and rolled me onto the operating table. As I lay there wondering if I was naked yet, because I couldn’t see past my chest, which would remain covered the whole time, I noticed that I could see myself in the mirrored part of the lights above me. I was indeed naked from the chest down. Amazingly, I didn’t even care. I just remember thinking, “I hope that curtain they put up blocks those lights because I’m not going to be able to stop myself from looking and I don’t want to see them cutting me open.” The curtain did block everything, though it fell at one point during the surgery and someone quickly caught it and put it back up.

They told me they were going to lean me to the left, and then they did – so far that I thought I might fall off the table. Then someone said, “You are wearing a seatbelt so you won’t fall off.” That’s good to know. The scrub nurse came in and scrubbed me while the nurse anesthesiologist got my arms positioned correctly and hooked me up to the monitors. I know that my blood pressure got a little low at some point because after the fact he said he would slow down my fluid drip since it was back up again. I don’t know how low it went, but I didn’t feel anything. I’ve always been told how cold it is in the OR, and it was, but I didn’t feel like I was freezing to death.

The doctors came in and they asked if I had someone coming with me and I told them that my husband was waiting outside. Someone got him and the minute he stepped into the room, the doctor said, “We’ve started.” Dave stood at my head and petted me and talked to me. He said to the nurse, “I want to watch him pull her out.” The nurse said, “You better stand up now, because she’s about to be born.” He couldn’t have been in the room more than five minutes at this point. He stood up and watched as the doctor pulled her out of my abdomen. He was crying and he said, “She looks like a chicken.” I started laughing, but then they held her up so I could see her. She was all pink and screaming and beautiful, and I said to Dave, “Oh my God, she looks just like you!” It was unbelievable how much the child looked like him.

At that point, they turned on the TV and took her to the warming table in the corner. Dave went with her to watch and take pictures as they wiped her off and weighed her. I was watching on the TV and crying while they sewed me up. Once she was all wrapped up, they brought her to me and put her on my chest so I could hold her. She stopped crying immediately and just looked at me. It was amazing. I heard them say her APGAR scores were 8 and 9 at birth and five minutes after. That means she was almost perfect when she was born. I cried and cried while I held her and talked to her. Too soon, they took her to the nursery to bathe her. Dave went with her to hold her up for the family to see and take pictures of her first bath. The doctors finished with me and the nurses transferred my back onto my bed. The whole process probably took 45 minutes, at the most.

When I got back to my cubicle in the recovery room, Dave and Ella Grace were already there waiting for me. They sat my bed up so I could see what the nurse was doing to her. Another nurse came to hook up my morphine pump and show me how to use it and when and how often. The baby nurse tested Ella’s sugar and it was well above the range they want to see for a healthy baby. I got to hold her and start nursing her right there. The nurse wasn’t available to help me with the nursing, so I just started on my own using the knowledge I had been storing up for months. She latched right on and nursed and nursed while we waited in recovery. The time seemed to fly and soon my nurse was getting me cleaned up so they could move me upstairs to my room. I got to ride in the bed and hold the baby in my arms while Dave and my nurse pushed us to our room on the second floor.

When we got up there, I met the nurse who would be caring for me during the day. Somehow, they got me into the regular hospital bed. I think I helped some, but I had to ask Dave later how I got into that bed. I had used my hands and arms to scoot my torso over while someone else moved my legs. I was all settled in with all my tubes and wires and most importantly, my baby. I had to have the IV, the catheter, and the leg cuffs for 24 hours. The leg cuffs were to prevent blood clots and they would inflate and deflate periodically – sort of like a blood pressure cuff but not as tight. I liked it at first because it felt good, but I was soon tired of them because my legs kept getting tangled up in the cords. Very soon, my room was flooded with family and I found myself able to allow Ella to be passed around. There were presents to open and the button on the morphine pump to push every ten minutes, so I was okay. By the end of the evening, I was so tired and loopy that I barely remember who came to visit me. I know at one point there were so many people packed in the room that they were standing single file. I can remember thinking to myself that all those people were there looking at me and talking about me and to me, and I couldn’t focus on anything.

Our stay in the hospital was great. I love Brookwood. The lactation nurses helped us through some difficulty in the beginning because Ella Grace was so sleepy, and by the time we left she was already regaining the weight she had lost. Breastfeeding is going very well at this point.

She is a week old today, and I can hardly believe it. We had a weight check this morning and she has gained an ounce and a half since we’ve been home – this is right on track for what they expect a breastfed baby to gain. We go back next week for another weight check and the second round of newborn screenings.

She is absolutely wonderful. Now that I have her, I can’t imagine my life without her. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much. It brings me to tears sometimes, and I’m not a crier.

God is so good. We have been so richly blessed with a beautiful, healthy daughter. My c-section experience and recovery could not have been any better. I know this is due to the all the prayers that so many people have been praying for us. Thanks to all of you for that.

Ella Grace!!! Yippee!!!

Note: This blog entry comes from Dave and not Amanda. Any factual, clerical or other errors should be attributed to him (which is me).

June 25, 2008, 7:50 a.m. Ella Grace was born, looking like a chicken. Some have already disagreed with me on this, but I was right there and I saw it with my own eyes. The doctor delivered her by grabbing her back and easing her through the incision, and all I could think of was, "My gosh she looks like one of those bagged chickens we cook on the aluminum can stand on the grill." Maybe it was the way she was laying or maybe it was that her skin got little bubbles when exposed to the cold air, but the girl came into this world looking just like a chicken.

She was immediately cleaned up and thank goodness, she started to look a little more human. She weighed 7lbs. 13oz., was 20.5 inches long and had a good bit of black hair at birth. She was very pink and her head was round instead of looking like an egg. I had never really considered that a newborns head would look like an egg, so I am glad Ella Grace's didn't.

Mom and baby are doing pretty well. The kid appears to be a pooper. They say to expect one dirty and one wet diaper on the first day, two a piece on the second day, etc. We had seven yesterday that I recall. There may have been one more early this morning while I was asleep. The nurses are pretty excited about all the pooping. I could probably fare just as well with the normal 1-1, 2-2 ratios, but that is apparently not how it will be.

I have thanked God several times that the baby is healthy. Amanda is healthy and not in too much pain. She is getting a little stir crazy I think. She is now disconnected from all the tubes and she is ready to bathe and have a walk. It will be hard to sit here in the hospital another two days. I believe we are both ready to get home.

Enough talk . . . . let me introduce you to Ella Grace. . .

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

You know the saying. : ) It seems as if Timothia will make her arrival into this world next Wednesday, June 25th. The 25th is a nice round number, so I'm okay with that date. : ) This is, of course, provided she doesn't come on her own before then - but I think she would have been here this week if that was the plan.

I am scheduled for a C-section Wednesday morning because the sassy little chic is breech. Now, I know that she was head down for about two weeks because I know when she turned that way, and I'm pretty sure I know when she turned back to breech. There is a chance that she could turn head down before Wednesday, but it isn't very likely at this point and given our situation. They will check her position when I get there Wednesday morning, and if she's head down I'll just have an induction instead of a C-section.

Obviously this wasn't my plan for the whole experience. Am I disappointed? I don't really think that's the right word for how I feel. I can't be disappointed because I'm too excited about having this baby and KNOWING that it will be next week. I also know that I made the best decision for us out of several options that my doctor presented. I think the best word to describe how I feel right now is "defeated." It sounds worse than it is, I'm sure. I can honestly say that I have done everything in my power to keep me and the baby healthy, and to move her into position. I don't have any regrets about anything that I did in this whole process. I realized early on that the healthier we are, the more options and influence I would have. I guess the feeling of defeat comes from working so hard (physically and mentally) to ensure a natural birth, and still making the decision for the C-section. But the part that makes me okay with it was that it was MY decision. So, was the work and the studying and the practice worth it? Absolutely. I'll be using hypnosis anyway, just not in the manner I expected. It will help with lots of things surrounding the birth and caring for a newborn, and most importanly, it really helped me keep a positive frame of mind - even now when everyone is expecting me to be upset.

I have suspected for weeks that my plan wasn't going to happen, so I was somewhat prepared yesterday to find out that she is breech (more prepared than I realized, actually). There was one moment when I wanted to cry on the way home from the doctor, but I said to myself: "Self, you are not going to cry about this. You made the decision and you know it's the best one for you." So, I didn't cry. : )

Let me say again that I LOVE my doctor. I basically had three options: breech vaginal delivery, external version with induction, and a c-section. Most doctors will not even consider breech vaginal delivery, and most (at Brookwood) don't know how to do an external version (that's the procedure where they turn the baby from the outside) - mine is willing and eager to do both, but I wasn't a good candidate for either. I have two strikes against me: this is my first baby and I have gestational diabetes. Even if the baby is not oversized (and I don't think she is), she is most likely proportioned differently than non-diabetic babies - larger in the torso, which can make it difficult to fit through my pelvis even if she's head down. With first babies, the uterus is less pliable, making an external version less successful in general, and labor is usually longer, making a breech vaginal delivery more risky since the biggest part of the baby (the head) would be delivered last. So, a c-section it is. I really don't think there is much chance of her turning on her own at this point.

This time next week, we will have a baby. : ) The most disappointing kink in all of my plans is that I won't be able to have a celebratory chocolate milkshake from Chick-fil-A right after the birth. Since it's a surgery, I'll probably have to wait until the next day. Dang it.

Both the baby and I are still doing great, and I got a small consolation prize for this whole C-section deal. When they did the ultrasound to check her position, the tech took some good 4D pictures of her face for me. She has the same fat cheeks and lips that I had when I was born. I can't wait to see her.

Full Term and a Full Moon

We are 37 weeks today!! Technically, that's full term and the baby is fully developed. She will spend the next few weeks (maybe) packing on weight. If I go into labor tonight, she should be healthy and whole. She should weigh between 6 1/2 and 7 lbs right now, and her fingernails are longer than her fingers so she might be scratching herself already. She'll need a trim right after she's born - it's a good thing I packed tiny nail clippers in her bag.

This is what one of the websites I read says about me this week (I love it!).

"You will also become tired from having to drag your belly around all day. It's like there's a 33-pound backpack full of kittens hanging on the front of your body and that is really something."

I couldn't agree more. I'm also supposed to be more forgetful and my ability to concentrate is "considerably diminished". I concur, thus, I'm updating this blog instead of working frantically on finishing the few items on my list before I go on maternity leave. : ) It also talks about the urge to nest, which I haven't experienced yet. I'm kind of hoping I don't because the thought of scrubbing things with toothbrushes and reorganizing closets does not sound at all appealing to me right now. However, Dave cleaned up the front and back yards and reorganized his tool closet last weekend. He told me he thought he was nesting - does it count if he does it for me? I hope so.

Let's talk about a couple of great ironies of pregnancy. Number one: For the first time in my life I have boobs - real ones, I mean. I'm wearing a C cup right now, and I'm pretty sure I could wear a D if I was wearing normal structured bras with underwire. What's ironic about that? My belly is so big that my boobs still seem insignificant. Number two: The term "lightening" is used to describe the baby dropping into the pelvis in preparation for birth. It's called lightening because your lungs and stomach are supposed to have more room so you can breathe and eat - you are supposed to feel "lighter." I don't know who dreamed up that bit of nonsense because there is nothing light feeling about having a baby in your pelvis. I've never felt so heavy in my life as I've felt for the past three days.

Last week, I was told that I walk like a duck. Last week, I took exception to that comment because it wasn't true. This week, it's absolutely true. I cannot walk without waddling. I've tried. It's not happening. She is so low that it really feels like my hip and pelvic bones are disconnected. I waddled the mile around our neighborhood last night, and that about finished me. It's never been that hard before. Labor is imminent - I just hope the timeframe for imminent is days and not weeks. : )

That brings me to the fact that tonight is a full moon. Supposedly, labor and delivery units have extra staff during the full moon because there is an increase in pregnant women coming in because thier water breaks. There aren't necessarily more babies born, but more broken water. I don't know if we are that close yet, but let's all hope that if my water breaks tonight, there are good contractions to go with it so I can have this baby without any intervention. Provided there is no full moon labor (and I'm really skeptical, trust me), we go back to the doctor tomorrow for another non-stress test and all that good stuff.

Oh, and congratulations to my friend Kathryn who had her baby last Friday! It was her babyshower I attended when I posted the picture a couple of months ago. I'm so excited for her! She was the first due, so babies will be popping out all over the place now. : )

Time Has Stopped

Until now, I've been living in a strange time warp where the days and weeks were passing so slowly, but also at the speed of light. Now, time seems to be standing still. I'm not complaining, too much. I am trying to remind myself to be patient because there are moments when the anticipation is killing me. But, I'm also enjoying these last few weeks when it's just me and Dave, and while I don't have to share this baby with anyone.

I am such a selfish person. At times I dread giving birth because once she's here the world will swoop down on me ready to hold and love and care for her. Not that that is a bad thing - they've all been eagerly anticipating her arrival, just as I have. I'm so happy that there are so many people ready to accept her into their lives so wholly. Dave and I are blessed with a huge and wonderful family. While I can't wait to share the joy of her with all of them, I also want to keep her all to myself for a little longer. I feel like a little kid at Christmas who doesn't want to share her new toys yet. Is that horrible?

Oh well, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that since I'll be breastfeeding I will be the only one feeding her for at least the first month or so. : )

An update from my 36 week appointment - we are still doing great. The baby looked great on the non-stress test and my blood pressure was normal. I had one giant contraction while hooked up to the monitors, and several small ones that I didn't feel. I have not dilated anymore since last week, and my doctor confirmed my suspicision that the 1 cm the other doctor told me was a little generous. : ) He doesn't seem to think we'll be having a baby this week.

For your amusement: Picture me, nine months pregnant, in a t-shirt and panties, in the tub with the dog. That was a scene from our house this week. Said dog had been sick in her kennel that day (finding that mess is a story not worth retelling), and was due for a bath. She only gets a bath about twice a year because her fur is pretty much self-cleaning. Labs are made that way. As a water dog, one would expect her to like having a bath. Not so. She HATES it. She loves the pool, the creek, the lake, and playing in the rain - she'll even get into the shower with me on occasion, but put her in the tub for the purpose of bathing her and she has a different attitude entirely. Case in point, on this particular day, after cleaning up the mess, we spent two hours outside waiting on the subsequent vomit incidents that always happen on the carpet (not this day!). She played in her pool (to rinse off most of the nastiness) and played ball in the pouring rain. When I finally brought her inside, she was soaking wet. When Dave put her in the tub for me - because she doesn't go willingly and I can't lift a 70 lb. dog right now - she acted like I was about to beat her with a stick. In order to bathe the beast, one must straddle her and hold her in the tub with ones thighs while scrubbing one half. Once that half is finished, one turns around and scrubs the other half. One must do this quickly because her patience with the process doesn't last long, and when the 70 lb dog decides she is finished with her bath, there isn't much a 9-months-pregnant woman can do about it. Luckily, she was mostly rinsed when she vacated the tub, leaving me standing in two inches of muddy water and dog hair while she dried herself (i.e. shook clean water and dog hair all over the bathroom). Usually, the drying process starts in the tub with the shower curtain closed when I give her the command Dry Yourself, but this day I was not fast enough. At any rate, we have a clean dog. She only pouted for about half an hour, then decided she wasn't mad at me anymore after leaving her wet imprint on my side of the bed.

Holy Booties, Batman!

**Insert sharp inhaling of breath** I'm having a baby!! Relax - not right this minute, but in the VERY near future.

Right before I married the love of my life, there were several anxious moments in which it suddenly occurred to me (again and again) that I was about to get MARRIED. MARRIED!! My entire life was about to change and suddenly I would always have to consider another person in addition to myself in every decision I made, in every action I took, etc. There were even moments when I questioned whether it was really the right decision to get married - to anyone. Was I really the kind of person that could be married for the rest of her life? Marriage is hard work. Obviously, the answer to that question was YES. This was all after dating the man for nearly four years, and knowing that I was going to marry him for at least three and a half before we actually got around to it. It wasn't a sudden decision. :) I could go on and on about him, but suffice it to say that I'm glad I did marry him. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

Now, as we wait through the final weeks of this pregnancy, I find myself having the same type of shocking, gasp-inspiring realizations that I'm about to have a baby. :) My heart stops for just an instant as I realize that VERY soon there will be another tiny person in my life that will change everything. How ridiculous is that? Obviously this life-changing event is no surprise to me since I've been carrying her inside me for the last nine months, since my house is already partially transformed in preparation for her, since I'm already planning for what we will do with the baby when we do this or that. This baby couldn't be more planned or wanted or anticipated or loved, yet the thought that we will have a real, live baby soon fills me with the same sense of anxiety that I felt in the weeks before I got married. It must be something about life-altering events.

The difference this time, aside from the fact that there is no undoing what has been done, is that I KNOW without a doubt that having this baby is God's plan for us. I know that He has already and will continue to prepare us for the changes that are coming. (He did that for my marriage, too, I just didn't know Him as well then.) Knowing that He has prepared me doesn't stop my wordly self from feeling anxious about the change when my guard is down and those thoughts slip in on occasion. Left to my own devices, I've never dealt with change well. I don't like it and I am a creature of habit to a fault. It's my fear of the unknown that makes me anxious. If I knew right now exactly what life would be like with the new baby, I would have no anxiety. I also know that once she's here, I will adapt quickly and we will be moving full-steam ahead to the next angst-producing event. But, that transitional time where I move from what is familiar to what is completely new gets me every time. I guess that's what faith is about - taking the leap and believing that you really won't fall on your face. :)

With all that said, I already know that this is another of those best decisions.

Given that this post really had no point, I think that's enough random, gibberish, blabber for one day. We'll see what tomorrow brings. ;)

35 Week Update

This week started my weekly doctor's appointments and non-stress tests. The baby did great during the test, her heart rate behaved exactly as it should have in response to her movements and my contractions. I had a few contractions during the test, but I couldn't feel them. She did want to sleep through the monitoring, so the nurse had to wake her up with this buzzer thing so she could get enough movements on the the test strip. I fully expected that to happen given how stubborn she is about moving when someone wants to feel it. It was pretty neat to just sit and listen to her heartbeat for 40 minutes.

I can totally understand why women don't want to wear those monitors the entire time they are in labor. They are uncomfortable and lying on my back on the bed for 40 minutes was REALLY uncomfortable. I wanted to ask the lady if I could sit up, but I didn't and she actually had to write on the report what position I was in. It will be a different story when I'm in labor and they try to make me lie there. I'm more achy today than I have been in a week.

As for me, I lost another 4 ounces and my blood pressure and sugar levels are great. We measured 35 cm for 35 weeks, so we are still on track as far as growth goes. (I'll say it again, I'm not having a giant baby.) I also had the Group B Strep test, which I'll find out the results on next week, and my first cervical check. I am dilated 1 cm. I was surprised by this news, but I'm excited about it. It won't be too long now.

Oh, and the baby is finally head down! I seriously think she turned yesterday. I'm relieved.

A Day in the Life

This one is about vomit. Don't read if you can't handle it.

I think most mothers, to fur- and skin-kids alike, would agree that the sound of puking can spur them into action regardless of their state of being 30 seconds before. Such was the case last night. I was snuggled comfortably in bed (and that takes a while these days), listening to a Hypnobabies CD, and practicing being in a deep state of hypnosis. From across the room and down through many layers of hypnosis came an unmistakable "SPLAT!" sound that one will associate with projectile vomit, if one has ever been exposed to it. The culprit? Jewel E. Cat, who was perched sweetly on top of my jewelry cabinet and vomiting onto the floor - precariously close to the dog's head, I might add. As any mother would do, I jumped out of bed (quite quickly in my present state), stopped briefly to rub her head and talk sweetly to her, and ran for the paper towels.

As I squatted down to clean up the mess, Georgia decided it was just too disgusting to watch any longer, so she moved from her spot in the floor - inches from the vomit puddle - to my spot in the bed with a look of spite for having her sleep disturbed. This made me laugh, even in the midst of cleaning up cat barf. I've never seen so much puke come from cat before, but the one good thing about cat puke is that it is rarely smelly. I cleaned it up, found the cat who had left the room, and successfully stuffed half a Pepto-Bismol tablet down her throat. She wasn't pleased with me, but hey, I didn't want her puking all night. I'm really hoping it was a freak thing and she's not getting sick. She didn't throw up again, so we may be okay.

Dave, of course, barely lifted an eyelid while all of this was going on. Then Georgia started barking because, Heaven forbid, the across the street neighbor's living room lights were still on! I shut the curtains in our living room and told her to shut it because she wasn't going out. As I headed back to bed, Dave mumbles, "What is going on? Haven't we been at this for an hour now?" Umm, no dear, WE haven't and it's only been 10 minutes.

Those that poo-poo the idea that animals don't prepare you for children have never dealt with mass quantities of animal poo, and puke, and pee, and house-training, and getting up in the middle of the night to take the puppy out, and bathing one and washing all it's bedding in the middle of the night or as soon as you get home from work because it had an accident, and medicating them when they are sick, and trying to figure out what's wrong with them because they can't tell you, and monitoring when and how much it pooped, and.. need I go on? Even Dave can stomach the smell of dog vomit (which, unlike cat vomit, is QUITE smelly) these days. I'd say our animals have prepared us well for the messes of early childhood and the discussions of bathroom habits that some might find so strange with a new baby. Bring it on.

Major Pregnant Moment

I backed into a mail box last night. I was turning around at my mother's house so I could park on the street, and I backed into the neighbor's mail box. I didn't see it. I didn't see it because it never occurred to me to look behind me. (Thank the Good Lord that the dogs were inside, because I probably would have hit one of them.) Who backs up in a vehicle without looking in the rearview mirror? Apparently my 8 and 1/2 month pregnant-brained, exhausted self does. Dave got out to look at it and when I saw his face in the rearview mirror (Oh, the irony!), I knew it was bad. I got out and cried like a baby and blubbered something about "shouldn't even be allowed to drive" while apologizing to my husband for messing up my "new" car. WHY couldn't this have happened while I was still driving the Tercel? This is the first time in 12 years of driving that I have hit anything (hard enough to do damage, anyway). Today, it doesn't look nearly as bad as it did last night, but I'll have to get it fixed soon because it knocked a chunk of paint right off of the trunk and I don't want it to rust. I know it really isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but in my hormonal and exhausted state, I'm having a hard time getting over it. I'm so mad and sad - and it's only my fault. : ( Oh well, I'll take it tomorrow to get an estimate and hopefully it can be fixed next week.

I had my 34 week appointment yesterday and it was pretty uneventful. I lost 1/2 pound in the last two weeks and he didn't comment on it at all. I'm still not sure how that happened given that attended two baby showers, a graduation party, and a Memorial Day barbeque in addition to keeping up a pace that didn't allow for the healthiest food choices. The baby measured at 34 weeks, so she is still right on track. My blood pressure was "great," but my fasting sugar level seems to be creeping up a bit. I'm hoping it's just because I haven't been eating, resting, or exercising well because of the crazy schedule I've been keeping recently. All of my social obligations are over now (I did this on purpose), so I plan to take it easy for the month of June. Well, aside from work, which has exploded in the last week while I'm trying to wrap things up and manage new tasks as they come in. I will start my weekly appointments next week, so we will find out Friday if I have dilated at all. I doubt it right now because she is still head up, but I guess anything is possible. I will also have to have a non-stress test (NST) every week to monitor the baby and make sure her heartrate and oxygen levels are staying normal while she's moving around in there. This is because of the diabetes. I know in my bones that she is fine and developing normally, and I am really resenting the diabetes diagnosis right now.

Because it makes me feel better, I'll share the latest bits of rudeness/ignorance I've heard. Last week we visited a car lot in Clanton because Dave has started shopping for a new car. When the salesman walked up, he said, "Are you expecting a baby?" All I could say was "Yeah." Believe me when I say that I am past the point of needing to ask to be sure. It is VERY obvious that I am pregnant, just listen to the next incident for proof. At another point over the weekend, a lady started a conversation with, "So, is your doctor worried because she's so big?" This came from a repeat offender, so probably rankled me more than it should have. WHY is it any of her business what my doctor thinks? I wish I had said, "No." Instead, I was nice and said, "Actually, she's measuring exactly where she's supposed to be, and no he hasn't expressed any concern." I would say that I can't wait to not be pregnant anymore so people will stop being rude/nosy/stupid, but I know it will just continue in a different manner when the world needs to tell me that I don't know anything about caring for babies and I'm doing it all wrong.

In our Bible study on Wednesday night, we talked about how our attitudes affect our outlook and perceptions. Obviously, my attitude is bad right now. I need a nap.

Hypnobabies Birth Stories

I found a website that is full of birth stories from women who used Hypnobabies. The stories have been great motivation for me to really focus on my practice in these last few weeks. They are very inspirational and have made me even more excited about having this baby. I've realized that even if an induction is necessary (and I still hope it isn't), I can still have a very comfortable, relaxing birth. I've realized that even if I fall asleep listening to the CDs because I'm so relaxed, the hypnotic suggestions will still work.

One of the most common themes throughout most of these stories is that the women were so relaxed during labor that the hospital staff did not believe they were actually in active labor. For many of them, it wasn't until they were involuntarily pushing the baby out that the staff believed a baby was coming soon. Stories like this are the reason I chose Hypnobabies as my birth method. This is how I want to experience the birth of my baby. I believe I can do this.

If you have time and interest, read some of them here:

http://www.pregnancybirthandbabies.com/enjoyable_births.htm

I also fully believe that Hypnobabies is one reason I've had such an enjoyable pregnancy. I can honestly say that my biggest complaint about being pregnant is not anything physical at all, it's the stupid things that people say and the constant, unsolicited advice. Even now when I'm huge and hot and itchy, and I know the baby has dropped because I can feel it in my hips and back, I LOVE being pregnant. It has been a very positive experience, thanks in part the the positive affirmations I listen to every day and the relaxation skills I've learned. I love my body and my big belly (despite the constant comments), and I'm already sad at the thought that I will not be feeling my baby move inside me anymore once she's born. It is hard for me to put into words the sense of strength and power I feel about this pregnancy and my decision to have a natural birth. Even if everything goes wrong (according to my plan, of course) from this point forward, it will have been worth it to have this sense of confidence in myself.

So Excited!

We had our Prepared Childbirth Class on Saturday, and it was great. A lot of my anxiety about this baby has been alleviated and now I just can’t wait! More about that in a minute, though.

One of the main reasons we attended the class was to familiarize Dave with the birthing process because he has not been obsessively reading everything he can find like me. I think he now feels nervous and excited and a lot more educated. He’s been studying the book they gave us and asking me questions, so I know that he is fully engaged. Also, he is now 100% supportive of my natural birth plans! Until now, he’s been skeptical. At any rate, this is the quiet conversation I overheard Sunday morning while I was getting ready for church.

“Do you remember when you were born?”
Silence from what I imagine was a big, brown-eyed, inquisitive face.
“Probably not. Your eyes were still closed.” Pause, then in a louder voice, “Right, Amanda?”
Me: “That’s right. Puppies’ eyes don’t open until they are two weeks old.”

This is funny in two parts: 1. He is excited and curious enough about the birth to discuss it with the dog and 2. At one fairly recent point in his life, he did not know that human babies open their eyes at birth. He actually asked me when babies’ eyes open. : ) God, I love that man.

Back to the class – We did the all day one on Saturday because that’s just easier to fit into our lives than five weeks of evening classes. First, I’ll just say that I LOVE Brookwood and I’m so glad we are having the baby there. I have been worried and anxious about how my natural birth plans will be received in L&D because so many women don’t even consider natural childbirth these days. There were two other women in the class that are planning on natural birth, so the instructors made sure to address that along with the pain relief options. I learned that when I get to L&D, they will try to pair me with a nurse that has experience or interest in natural birth. This is so exciting for me, and it’s something that I have been praying about. The hospital is very open to natural birth and they even have birthing balls and a squat bar on the unit!! I will be able to labor and push in positions of my choosing – two of the most important things in my plan. They also encourage “kangaroo care” – which is skin-to-skin contact immediately after birth, and if you are nursing they try to get you started in the first hour – two more extremely important things in my plan. I have now been told by three separate people that the nurses really try to help you have the birth experience you are seeking. I am so excited.

The class also talked a lot about relaxation during labor and the tension-pain-fear cycle. We learned some massage and breathing techniques (some of which I had to ignore because they directly contradict Hypnobabies). Basically, most of what we learned corresponded with what Dave and I have been studying and practicing in our Hypnobabies course. This is part of the reason he feels so much better about it now. Also, I learned that there is a nurse at Brookwood who just recently got certified in hypno-birthing! It just makes me so excited to learn that Brookwood is so open to natural birth, breastfeeding, and attachment parenting. They strongly encourage breastfeeding, and have a great Lactation center if you need help while you are there or after you go home. They encourage rooming-in with the baby and responding to her cues for hunger, sleep, etc. rather than rigid scheduling. Over all, I felt really good about the class and the hospital in general.

We took a tour of the L&D rooms and the postpartum rooms. This was nice, because now when I visualize my ideal birth I can actually see what the hospital looks like. There was some baby care instruction – things like diaper changing, swaddling, bathing, etc. Dave learned how to change a diaper and swaddle a baby. He was amazed that I already knew how to swaddle, but I informed him that I used to swaddle my dolls in the exact same way. Someone must have taught me to do that at some point.

We had our first baby shower on Sunday. The generosity was amazing. We can barely walk into the baby’s room right now because there are packages completely covering the floor. I will be sorting through them this week in an attempt to figure out where to put everything. I really wanted to look at everything again last night, but the nap won. I was SO tired.

I think the animals are realizing that things are about to change in our house. They keep going into the baby’s room and sniffing all the bags and boxes – over and over again. I keep seeing Georgia randomly coming out of there; I know she’s in there thinking, “What can this mean?” Of course, there was a present for her in one of those packages, so she might just be looking for another. She LOVES the bone that she received at the baby shower. She stayed busy with that all afternoon and evening yesterday. Last night, I heard a rustling in there, and I turned on the light to find Jewel deep in the middle of a sea of bags. Somehow she waded through them, sniffing each one, as is her nature. She is the nosiest of all my beasts – not afraid to sniff and stick her little paws in the purse of a guest, should the opportunity arise.

It was a busy weekend. This week will be busy too since one of my brothers is graduating from high school, and we have another shower Saturday evening. Then there is supposed to be a pool party for Memorial Day, and I am REALLY looking forward to that. I can’t think of anything better right now than floating in the pool.

I wish I had x-ray vision.

I would love to be able to look inside my belly and see what the baby is doing in there. I swear sometimes it feels like she's hitting a speed bag (You know, that hanging punching bag that you hit really fast with your fists? I know this from Tae Bo.) I also want to know how she is positioned. I cannot tell what these parts are that I'm feeling. There is lump in the top left side of my belly, and I don't know if it's a head or butt. I'm hoping it's a butt since that would put her in a nearly head-down position. However, she's not kicking me in the ribs, so I'm suspicious it's a head. I'm 32 weeks today and she's supposed to be moving to head-down pretty soon. I want her to get on with it so I don't have to worry about a breech baby.

There isn't much new to report on the pregnancy calendar. She weighs about 4 lbs. and is 11-ish inches long. I am supposed to start thinking about my birthing options. If I had waited until now to start thinking about them, I would be freaking out. Dave and I did our last Hypnobabies "class" last night. I have one more week of listening to a new CD track, then I start my maintenance program until birth. He's beginning to grasp his role in this process, I think. He has some jobs to do to help me be as relaxed as possible during birth. He told me he doesn't think he can be "down there" watching while I'm delivering her. That's fine, but he will be in the room. He started talking about how his brother stood at the door of the room when his wife was having their first child. I told him, "We aren't having any of that. You are in this with me and you are a grown man. Besides, you are the only person I want to be there." I think we are clear on this subject now. Perhaps I'm a radical feminist, but my thought on this subject is this: If you are man enough to look at a woman's most private part during recreational time, then you are man enough to see it during work time, too. This isn't 1950.

My first shower is this weekend. I think I need to practice using my "Bubble of Peace" before then. The Bubble of Peace is part of my Hypnobabies training. I'm supposed to surround myself with it to protect myself from negativity (obviously, I've not been doing this lately). Creating my bubble was the first thing I did in my Hypnobabies practice. Since this is all about visualization and the power of the mind, I'm supposed to build and maintain a positive outlook about pregnancy and birth - that means I have to protect myself from other people's negativity about birth, etc. In case you are wondering, my bubble is pale pink and covered in silvery, elven mail (think Lord of the Rings). There are butterflies inside of it. (Newsflash: I'm a freak.) Negative thoughts and feelings are supposed to bounce off of it. They do, when I remember to use it. This bubble, like most of the Hypnobabies training, will be useful in other areas of my life as well.

I also have a safe place I'm supposed to go to during my relaxation, but I find that most of the time I relax so quickly that I don't make it to the safe place. Dave rags me all the time about being "hypnotized" because he thinks I'm sleeping. Sometimes I am. :) However, most of the time I am in a state of "hypnotic amnesia"; I know this because I come out of it when the voice on the CD counts me up. It's so cool. My safe place is the backyard of our house in Gardendale. I don't know why, but like the pink Bubble, that's the image that popped into my mind when I was creating it. When I visualize my anesthesia moving through my body, it is a bright white light. Anesthetizing myself is the coolest thing about this program so far. I have a lot more work to do, but I'm really excited about my progress.

I have my 32 week appointment tomorrow. I have to ask the doctor if creating a birth plan is crap or if it's worth the time to do it. I have one in my head, but if it won't be taken seriously, I'm not putting it on paper. I know what I want and don't want, and I will make sure I get it (or don't). Hypnobabies is empowering. :)