Late for work

We are late for work regularly because we can't stop admiring Pequita. Blame us?

Sick and tired

I am due June 14th-ish. I keep thinking about how nice it will be to deliver on May 31, as it is the blue moon (second full moon of the month). Haha, what fun and all that jazz. I've joked about getting lots of exercise, eating spicy foods, making a little whoopee, etc to spur on labor at the end of May. I am not joking any longer. I ate some really spicy food that my SIL brought over last night, not to try to induce but just because I was hungry and I love Thai food. BIG mistake. I can no longer handle the spice - I have had the worst upset stomach since, am home from work today and go through waves of wanting to die. My intestines are so mushed by the baby that it takes me longer to digest anything, which is prolonging this experience.

I FORGOT that the reason spicy food induces labor is that it gives you stomach/intestinal distress, which releases hormones that mimic labor and can fool your body into getting started. I don't care if I deliver in July, I am NOT going to chance spicy food again.

On the plus side, taking the day off to be near my own bathroom has allowed me to sleep for many many hours, which is true bliss.

Lesbians on mothers day

Someone asked me, "What do lesbians DO on mother's day?" The answer is easy. We go to EMS (East*rn Mount*ain Spo*rts) and buy ourselves a new Thule roof rack for our newish car so we can haul around our mountain bikes, canoes, furniture, etc. What good is a car with no roof rack, I ask you? Then we go out for lunch (Mexican) then home for a nap en famille. Perfect.

Greg, our intrepid EMS employee and Thule specialist helping Homestead Mama install the roofrack in the parking lot. I might have been able to get it cheaper online, but after they struggled for 30 minutes to get it on correctly, I think we made the right choice.

(The second thing *I* do, quietly, is tally up the cards Homestead Mama receives for Mother's Day congratulating her on her motherly status but making no mention of me at all. Then I delete the sender's addresses from our Christmas card list. Unless, say, it is my father-outlaw & his wife. No luck Homestead Mama will forget their address, so I just toss the card when no one is looking. Bad me.)

The real question is what do lesbian's do on Father's Day. For us, we've decided to make it Family Day, and celebrate the adoptions of each other's kids each year. I'm midway through the process of adopting Pequita. Once Monito/a is born, Homestead Mama will have to adopt him/her too, or it will never be safe to travel through Oklahoma or Virginia, or many international countries. One more method of discrimination. I could totally use the $3000+ on something else, like French doors for our kitchen, or a nice trip to Europe. Instead, we'll invest it in making our family as legal as a straight family gets to be for free. And we'll be grateful we have the opportunity to do so, unlike many other gay families around the world.

35 week OB checkup

I just returned from my 35 week OB checkup.  My levels are all normal, my weight is down a few pounds (goodness knows how.  Here I sit at 10:30 am halfway through my lunch of leftover gnocchi, broccoli and garlic) and the fetal heartbeat is steady and strong in the 140s.  The doc offered to give me an ultrasound since my weight is down and I've only gained 5 pounds at this point.  I asked what the benefit would be - what would we do differently?  He replied that if the fetus was actually undersized they might take it early, as it might thrive better outside the womb.  Then he checked my fundal height, and I'm a generous 35 cm, which means the fetus seems to be right on track.  By the amount of discomfort I'm having due to sheer bulk & the number and nature of kicks inside me, I'm not worried about the vigor of the fetus at all.  The doc agreed that it looks fine.  (Oy, can you BELIEVE I turned down an ultrasound chance to see the kid again?  I can't, but I'm really not worried about the size of the fetus.)

 

I go back in 2 weeks for my strep test and they'll check my cervix at that point if I want to see if I've started to dilate.  SURE I want to know if I'm dilating or not - who wants to risk having their water break in a work meeting in front of all your colleagues and boss?  Any clues to help me avoid that would be most welcome.

 

Given my energy levels and my fairly constant discomfort - and the +/- 5 weeks left - I may actually adjust the start time of my leave so I stop work a week before my due date.  I'll have to see.  I go meet with the HR rep at work next Teusday to discuss how much leave I have left, having already taken 4 weeks off last fall for parental leave.

 

 

Hospitals

I hate hospitals.  I've had 20+ surgeries to repair orthopedic / car accident breaks, so have had plenty of chances to change my mind.  I won't use hospital soap, as the smell of it stays for hours and stinks (has anyone else noticed that they all use the same brand?)  I know and loathe the smell of the laundry detergent they use.  With my eyes closed, I can have a good guess at which ward I am on by the ambient sounds that waft in from the open elevator doors.  I can no longer eat Jello (actually, this does not sadden me too much.)  I get hives at the sound of the musical intro to morning TV shows from all the long, boring days spend alone in a hosital room with TV as company.  Walking into the hospital brings on some fierce PTSD every time.  I get weepy easily in hospitals, and spend a lot of time being stoic and hiding my stress. 

 

Due to all this, I always thought I'd go for a home birth or a birthing center, but after Homestead Mama's birth experience in our local hospital, I decided to bite the bullet and follow in her footsteps.  I don't think that it is a bad decision, and I certainly have given it an enormous amount of thought.  Firstly, our OB docs are fantastic, laid back, willing to give us the natural approach to childbirth that we want regardless of hospital norms.  Secondly, the maternity ward is great - the nurses are, for the most part, sweet and fantastic, it is nicely decorated and pleasant to be in (unlike many other wards in the hospital) they have a birthing tub, and they now have a neonatologist/perinatologist on staff.  The standard labor/postpartum policies are very much in line with what our birth plans were listing, so we don't have to do battle every step of the way to get what we wnat, like to have bare skin time immediately after birth, keep the kid with us 27/7 if we choose to, decline tests & procedures commonly done to newborns, etc.  The rooms are small, but a heck of a lot cleaner than my living room. 

 

Given my history, I have had a rather higher than average amount of physical pain in my life, and hope that it helps me cope with the labor.  If I can make it through with no meds, I'd like to, but if I want something to take the edge off I'll have it handy at the hospital.  I have always felt that I was made for birthing babies - my mom birthed 4 kids like a pro (and I was 8 lbs 13 oz and breech - butt first!)  I have her hips, which will certainly help.  On the flip side, I actaully believe that if something bad can happen, it probably will to me.  I was hospitalized for mono & also had to have a tonsilectomy in high school.  Since my car accident at 18 years old, I've had a string of bad luck that had nothing to do with the accident but required surgery: appendectomy, a second rhinoplasty to fix my already beleaguered nose when a softball smashed it, my last ankle fusion NOT FUSING and having to go through the surgery all over again 4 months later.  See a trend?  Abnormal amounts of physical trauma - this is my life.  I am doing as much meditating and ruminating on all ths to help keep my mind right - labor and childbirth will be the first thing I enter a hospital for that I may have some control over, that are not inherently medcial conditions, and that I could technically do all by myself without a surgeon.  The mind boggles.

 

You can safely assume that music and aromatherapy will be a big part of my expected labor experience in an attempt to transport my brain to a happier locale than the one we'll be in.  Homestead Mama played the same Carlos Nakai cd over and over during her labor - it did help a lot to make her mind peaceful and inject a nice vibe in the room when we were able to focus on it (which wasn't all the time).  I want to have something less like air pudding (I will be best friends with anyone who knows where that reference comes from without googling it).  I am thinking that some music that is peaceful, upbeat, rhythm-driven and not too complicated would be good.  I love the album Baka by the group Outback ( http://tinyurl.com/2yzatx).  Does anyone have any suggestions?  A nice drum circle cd, pleasant upbeat chanting album?

Silent Auction, my style

We have a Relay for Life team in our office who raise money for the American Cancer Society every year. And every year they hold a baked goods silent auction. Yum. This year, I cleverly figured that we have a huge freezer, and will want yummy sweets once the new baby comes. so I bid on a sour-cherry pie (Homestead Mama's favorite) and an orange layer cake with buttercream frosting (which was so pretty I couldn't resist). It was for charity, so I feel no guilt. Baby wants cake.

And yay for us all, I won!

Better than daycare

We have Pequita in a home daycare with a single woman. She is good with the kids, and Pequita loves to play with the other kids. She is the youngest there, and all the older kids (14 months - 30 months) dote on her and like to bring her toys and interact with her. This is good. One downside is that we don't like the back up caregiver - if Daycare Lady has a doctors appointment or something that pulls her away from the kids, I make every effort to take time off work or get my own backup. This morning, Daycare Lady was at the chiropractors so Hottie Friend came over first thing to care for Pequita until she can safely be dropped off at daycare. I received this photo on my cell phone at 9:43 this morning - clearly, all is well. She even put sunblock on her! Apparently, there was a little explosive diarrhea right after this pleasant interlude, but that just meant that a nice bath was the surprise activity of Pequita's morning. Yay for Hottie Friend, a.k.a. Fairy Godmother.

Daycare Lady just called and is back home. Hottie Friend is having such a good time with Pequita that they will remain in the yard for a bit longer, enjoying each other's company.

Later...

Delivery to daycare was delayed due to a sudden nap - baths are exhausting. I will take this opportunity to thank my sister & sister-in-law for the adorable pink elephant overall shorts. We all love them.

Parrots begone

We are down to only one parrot, the feather-plucking one who is tame. We sent the last adoptable one to his new home last week. The house is noticably quieter, and will be much cleaner (once we have cleaned it to begin with, so it has a chance to get dirty again.)

That sound? It is me breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Birth class (redux)

Homestead Mama and I attended the abbreviated version of birthing class this past Saturday. (Before her birth, as complete novices, we did the 6-week course.) This one was a 4-hour yoga based class taught by a local yoga teacher who also teaches the prenatal yoga class I attended until I was unable to lay on the floor. To be accurate, I could lay on the floor beautifully, I just can't get up OFF the floor without assistance. My bones settle as my relaxin-affected
tendons stretch, and it is most painful trying to hoist myself off a hard surface. Hysterically funny to watch, by the response I get from Homestead Mama and others, but excruciating.

Saturday was a gorgeous day here, and the windows were open on Yoga Teacher's second floor loft space. They overlook our town's central pedestrian square, with coffee shops, boutiques, restaurants, art and fountains. There was a hippie ensemble playing music the whole afternoon and the faint sounds of banjo, guitar and harmonica wafted in as a soundtrack for the class. It was lovely. There were seven couples attending, and the mood was jovial and excited. We learned comfy, supportive poses to utilize in labor. (Yes, I know, 'comfy' and 'in labor' don't belong in the same sentence. Humor me - I only have a few weeks of denial left.) We had facilitated discussions about our (perceived) greatest challenges - mine? Clearly, that I will be trying to take care of everyone else in the birthing room. Homestead Mama's? That she will fail me, be too nervous to support me in the way I need. Good to know - both seem manageable. We did actually learn some positions that seemed like they'd work for me. With my left ankle fused at 90 degrees, many of the squat/kneeling/floor positions are difficult without special support, which we addressed. I will have some special props, but ought to be ok.

Midway through class we got a text message from Hottie Friend, who had graciously taken time out of her busy end-of-semester schedule to care for Pequita. She sent some photos to assure us that the kid was still thriving and happy, and enjoying her first ever hammock experience. I have come to rely on these visual updates, and love the reassurance that the kid is ok, but more importantly that she loves her Auntie. And her tongue, which makes an appearance in the second picture.


We left the class and grabbed a quick bite of sushi to fortify our tired bodies. It was absolutely delicious - we haven't had fish since before Pequita was born to avoid the mercury in everything. The recent reports are that there is little to no harm for pregnant women to eat sushi as long as it is fresh, so we indulged with vigor. Then off to pick up our by now cranky baby, and home for a long night of birth talk and rest.

Piano

Pequita has a little piano that I ordered for her. It is in the shape of a caterpillar, and the antennae are the xylophone hammers. The keys cover one octave, so I can play her simple songs. She has clearly figured out that the hammers make better noise than just whacking it with her fists, and she is quickly learning to master her grip of the hammers to maximize her noise.

Long weekend

My weekend started on Tues last when I took off from work to cover Pequita's daycare, since our provider had to go out of town for a few days. Bliss! Temperate weather, time with the baby, and best of all, my sister came for a visit and brought 13-month-old Nephew along. Things were a bit hectic, as our house is not childproofed at all (= a death trap) and Nephew is walking, not to mention helpfully clearing all things (particularly anything breakable, sharp, or made of rusty metal) off the lower shelves and floors of our house. Pequita was completely enamored of him, and they got along well as long as Pequita was tossed aside when Nephew noticed that his mom was holding her and NOT HIM.

My sister and I spent some time locating and playing at local playgrounds - not something I gave much thought to before Pequita. Clearly, it was a much safer plan to send Nephew down big corkscrew slides all by himself than to let him wander into our bathroom, out of which he came happily rattling prescription bottles containing enough allergy medicine to keep his nose clear for a decade. Since Pequita was born in October and we live in the cold Northeast, we haven't had much opportunity to play outside. This is evidenced in her great love of grass - she can run her fingers over it ruffling the blades for much longer than I can tolerate sitting next to her. Luckily, the option of eathing it hasn't occured to her yet.

The first playground we visited (on the day we forgot all cameras) was small and had no swings (is that a real playground then, you ask? I'd vote no) but it had DUCKS! wandering around who would nibble food out of your hand. These were more interesting than the play equipment for many kids. Nephew was quite enchanted, Pequita was so overwhelmed by the whole experience that she mostly stared with rapt attention at whatever was in front of her. The second day we tried a different, bigger park, also by the lake, but it had swings to enjoy. I was pretty sure Pequita would love the little bucket swings, and she did. I had to stuff my coat and sling around her to keep her secure, as she was a little small still, but she quickly started laughing and chortling as I gently pushed her.

The merry-go-round was also a big hit with Nephew, and brought back all the memories I had of nausea at spinning in small circles. Blech - my sister accompanied Pequita around, as I started to turn green after only two or three circles. Pequita was less impressed with it than Nephew, but then maybe the ride loses something if you have to be clutched by your overall straps like a baby.

We have more playgrounds in our town that I shall have to explore on my own - it is proving to be as child friendly as I had thought when I chose to live here. It has some great playgrounds built by Bob Leathers that I can't wait to explore, but those are mostly in school playgrounds so we'll need to coordinate to miss the recess crowds. (Do elementary school kids even get recess any more?)

Sister and Nephew bolted town a couple days ahead of schedule since he started to rain snot from his nose and get a little fussy. He was cutting a new tooth and possibly coming down with a cold as well - my sister was justifiably nervous about being alone in the car with an already sick boy for the very long drive to get home. Leaving on Friday meant that he was sleepy and not feeling full-blown awful, and they made it home with little incident. I wish so very much that we lived closer, as meeting in the park or for coffee is a huge treat with my sister, and the cousins playing together is a delightful image.

Feet? What feet?

My feet are only in sight now when I am walking and they are out in front of me. If I stand straight, hold the camera most of my arms length away from me and shoot down, I see this:

I have been trying to get good belly shots from the side, so you can see and appreciate just how big I am getting, but Homestead Mama has been working late and I can't find the tripod. So this dark, not-so-clear photo is the best I could do alone for now.

I have ~5.5 weeks left to go (excuse me - holy shit! I have been thinking 7+ weeks!) and Monita/o will do most of its bulking up in that time. I feel impressive and fecund. I really love this.

I took my navel ring out when I first started IVF with all the ultrasounds - didn't want to interupt the equipment. I popped it back in to see if it would still go, and it did. Took it right out again, as my belly button has become very shallow, and the LAST thing I want to do is catch the piercing on anything. It is a vestige from my youthful rebellion, installed back when it was risque and a novelty. I'm not sure I'll ever wear it again. We'll see how my self-image holds up to two kids, diapers, no time for the gym, etc.

backlog

I have many posts in draft stage, and will get to them, I promise.  Lots of pictures and a few movies.

 

In the meantime, I have a question for you all.  Let's say your office holds an event which is catered.  You are 34.5 weeks pregnant and feeling rather enormous and unwieldy.  There is, in front of you, a large platter of cheese cubes left over from the event - no one is around, and it is about 3 in the afternoon. 

 

How many cubes of cheese is a good number to consume?  Three?  Seven?  Ten?  Bag them all up in a Ziploc and take them into your private office so no one witnesses your multiple trips back to the platter? 

 

Sigh.  In my defense, I can only offer the fact that apparently I have developed a taste for Pepper Jack. 

Moooooooo.

We were lying in bed this morning admiring the kid while she nursed and cooed.  When she's hungry, she grabs Homestead Mama's whole boob and wraps her pudgy little arms around it in a big proprietary bear hug while she latches on; once she starts getting full, she blows and makes sounds around the nipple and pats it happily.  It is quite cute.   As this is happening this morning, all of a sudden I feel a sharp needle-like stabbing in my left nipple (and you'll know you aren't a close enough friend or family member to be reading this if you just grimaced) and I looked down to discover that witnessing Pequita's boob-love of Homestead Mama was making me leak what could only have been early colostrum.  Bizarre, and the first time it has happened.  My doc said it could happen, but I hadn't seen it yet.  Maybe this is why Pequita, after 4 months of having NOTHING to do with comfort nursing on my 'dry boobs',  is willing now to latch on me when trying to go to sleep IF Homestead Mama isn't around.  Maybe she's been getting a little something from me.  Quite remarkable.  I feel very proud for some odd reason.  And like a cow.

POTUS

Uh huh. Sure.