So I have a confession to make.
I've been experiencing pretty intense pain the last two days, in addition to the loss of my mucous plug. The pain (maybe I should rephrase this as "achy cramps"; not exactly pain) started two nights ago and cost me an entire night of sleep. Last night was a repeat performance. I officially started losing the mucous plug yesterday afternoon. I didn't want to say anything for fear that it was all a bunch of nothingness, and would get everyone's expectations up, only to have baby not arrive for another 1-2 weeks. In fact, we decided not even to tell our families, knowing that most people hear "achy contractions" and assume that labor is near. Since I didn't know for sure that I was experiencing true labor contractions, and had no idea how soon baby would come, Adam and I decided to stay mum about everything.
I had a scheduled appointment at the birth center this evening, so rather than make a special trip because of my discomfort, I decided instead to labor at home all day. As difficult as it was to go through a second day of achy contractions, it was also a special time, lying in bed all morning with Kika and House snoozing next to me. I half-listened to my favorite NPR talk radio shows while dozing all day, then got up around 3pm to wash a sinkful of dishes; I wanted to feel somewhat productive around the house considering Adam has been balancing his law firm, his Army JAG clients, house construction and taking care of me. I had 2-3 contractions while washing dishes, but I managed to get through them all, and I felt proud of my clean kitchen.
At 6pm, we made it to our appointment at the birth center. Immediately, my midwives came to give us big hugs; it wasn't long before they noticed my compromised gait. After telling them that I've been having repetitive pains (I was hesitant to call it contractions, since the pain was not accompanied by any squeezing feelings), they took Adam and me into consultation straight away. Luckily, I had a series of contractions in front of the midwives, and midwife Clarice was able to feel my uterus as the contractions were occurring. She sat and thought for a few minutes to digest the details of the last two days before diagnosing me as being in the midst of prodromal labor, meaning that the front-end of labor has been prolonged. I was just happy to hear that what I've been dealing with for the last two days has indeed been labor! The idea that the contractions I've been feeling could not even be a part of labor was an exhausting thought.
So, prodromal labor. This unto itself doesn't mean a whole lot. Clarice said that while it's likely baby will come in the next day or so, there are no guarantees. In fact, it could still take several more days, and we should be prepared for that. I am trying hard to master the breathing exercises I've learned by following the Bradley method of natural childbirth, in addition to the breathing and relaxation techniques I was taught in yoga. They really do help a lot, and part of me feels lucky to be going through this "practice labor" period that's allowing me to master the techniques before active labor begins. On the other hand, one can only have so many contractions before being really over it all. As it is, I've had to stop typing this blog post five different times to make way for contractions. I think Adam, while sympathetic, and really helpful, is also a little bit over all my moaning sounds, deep and throaty, that sound like I'm starring in the latest remake of "Debbie Does Dallas." He has a slightly skeptical look on his sympathy-filled face after each of my contractions. I've already told him that despite the extreme achiness of it all, there is a distinct sexual quality to the contractions, too. I said, "You know how you can get achy when feeling extreme sexual desire? Imagine that achiness multiplied about 1000 times, to the point that you are barely aware of the desire part anymore. That's what this feels like." He just shook his head, completely in awe that I could attach a sexual quality even to something as seemingly non-sexual as labor contractions. Hey, it's all the same body parts, right??
I guess I'm totally getting the "natural childbirth" experience that I signed up for. If I were working with a hospital, I'd probably already have been admitted and on the schedule for induction by now. So, I'm glad that the midwives are allowing nature to take its own course, even if it means a lot of discomfort along the way. Basically, I've just been told to conserve my energy, rest A LOT, eat well, and monitor the contractions for signs of a pattern developing. I'll admit that I'm not answering my phone at all these days so as not to have to tell the same details over and over again, and to conserve my energy (and sanity). I am overwhelmed by the love and concern from everyone who has called, e-mailed and facebook'd to find out the latest progress, though. Many thanks! Please don't take it personally if you don't hear from me; at this point, I only have the stamina to communicate with Adam's and my families. Friends and colleagues will hear details of baby's arrival via this blog or over e-mail as soon as we can post the news.
In the meantime, I'd better go for now...another contraction is coming on...
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Spillover
Today has been one of those weird days that seemed to have passed by mostly in a fog. I literally slept the majority of the day away, as I've been dealing with some minor cramping and discharge (no water breakage yet), and just felt like taking it easy.
But don't be fooled; I earned my day of relaxation. Adam, Christine and I woke at 4:45am to get her to the Detroit airport for her early-morning flight out. Since we'd gotten to bed only about 4 1/2 hours earlier, I made it my personal mission to try to keep Adam awake during the 1 1/2 hour drive to the airport. We listened to NPR (it's been awhile since I've actually been awake to hear the first broadcast start at 5am), chatted about the stormy weather, and gazed with sympathy at opposing traffic, lined up back-to-back on the highway. We made it to the airport in record time and bid Christine a fond farewell, as she really kicked ass this week and got our basement into a functional space that will no longer pose a mold threat to me or baby. There's a reason I love that girl, and it has only a little to do with her construction/demolition skills.
Since I decided to brave the long carride to the airport, I thought I'd go prepared with an incontinence pad in case the urge to pee hit me. In the 4 1/2 hours of "sleep" I got last night, I got up four times to urinate, so I knew there was a good chance I'd need to go sometime during the drive. I was right. Somewhere around mile 45 of the trip, when the road was getting disturbingly bumpy, my bladder started screaming at me for relief. I tried to relieve myself, with no luck; I think I was too tense sitting in the car to properly go. Once we arrived at the airport, however, it was a different story. As soon as I stood up to give Christine a hug good-bye, everything loosened up and I started to pee, happily and freely into the pad. If you've never done this, I must tell you the odd combination of relief, freedom and self-consciousness that the act brings on. I was extremely proud of myself and announced my urination to Adam and Christine. She grinned and asked if we should wait to hug until I'd finished. Just as I was trying to finish up, an all-too-familiar warm feeling started to gather at the front of my jeans. I looked down, but couldn't see anything past my belly; Christine started ordering me to "Stop! Stop! It's coming through!" My pad had failed me and there was spillage. And I still had some urine left to release. I gave Christine a quick hug and then climbed, hang-dogged back into the car. Adam was a little disturbed. About ten miles down the highway, I mimed excitedly toward the reststop on the side of the road, and he made a quick departure just before missing the exit. I peed, cleaned up the spillage, washed my hands, then decided to try to pee again one more time for the rest of the hour-long trip home.
Just as we got back on the road, Christine called to let us know that she'd checked in okay. Just a moment later she laughed and said, "Lauren, I felt so bad! As soon as I walked into the airport, there was a restroom right by the door. You didn't need to pee your pants after all!" Oh well, if I'd peed at the airport, I'd have had a much less interesting story to tell.
But don't be fooled; I earned my day of relaxation. Adam, Christine and I woke at 4:45am to get her to the Detroit airport for her early-morning flight out. Since we'd gotten to bed only about 4 1/2 hours earlier, I made it my personal mission to try to keep Adam awake during the 1 1/2 hour drive to the airport. We listened to NPR (it's been awhile since I've actually been awake to hear the first broadcast start at 5am), chatted about the stormy weather, and gazed with sympathy at opposing traffic, lined up back-to-back on the highway. We made it to the airport in record time and bid Christine a fond farewell, as she really kicked ass this week and got our basement into a functional space that will no longer pose a mold threat to me or baby. There's a reason I love that girl, and it has only a little to do with her construction/demolition skills.
Since I decided to brave the long carride to the airport, I thought I'd go prepared with an incontinence pad in case the urge to pee hit me. In the 4 1/2 hours of "sleep" I got last night, I got up four times to urinate, so I knew there was a good chance I'd need to go sometime during the drive. I was right. Somewhere around mile 45 of the trip, when the road was getting disturbingly bumpy, my bladder started screaming at me for relief. I tried to relieve myself, with no luck; I think I was too tense sitting in the car to properly go. Once we arrived at the airport, however, it was a different story. As soon as I stood up to give Christine a hug good-bye, everything loosened up and I started to pee, happily and freely into the pad. If you've never done this, I must tell you the odd combination of relief, freedom and self-consciousness that the act brings on. I was extremely proud of myself and announced my urination to Adam and Christine. She grinned and asked if we should wait to hug until I'd finished. Just as I was trying to finish up, an all-too-familiar warm feeling started to gather at the front of my jeans. I looked down, but couldn't see anything past my belly; Christine started ordering me to "Stop! Stop! It's coming through!" My pad had failed me and there was spillage. And I still had some urine left to release. I gave Christine a quick hug and then climbed, hang-dogged back into the car. Adam was a little disturbed. About ten miles down the highway, I mimed excitedly toward the reststop on the side of the road, and he made a quick departure just before missing the exit. I peed, cleaned up the spillage, washed my hands, then decided to try to pee again one more time for the rest of the hour-long trip home.
Just as we got back on the road, Christine called to let us know that she'd checked in okay. Just a moment later she laughed and said, "Lauren, I felt so bad! As soon as I walked into the airport, there was a restroom right by the door. You didn't need to pee your pants after all!" Oh well, if I'd peed at the airport, I'd have had a much less interesting story to tell.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
D-Day
26 May. Due Day. The day we've been waiting for for the last nine months has finally arrived, and so far, there's no indication that Baby Mitt is planning his/her trip out. The signs of eventual labor have shown up--less movement from baby as s/he has grown too large to have much freedom of movement left; baby's head has dropped into my pelvic region; gradual loss of the mucous plug; decreasing belly size as baby gets into position for take-off; and then, many other signs that while biological, are kinda graphic, so I'll leave them to your imagination. Some of you might still be shuddering from the mucous plug thing as it is.
For the last week and a half, I've been getting constant phone calls, e-mails, facebook posts, etc., asking me if "that baby has come yet?". Funny because all the books and all your female friends who've been through this before tell you that people will continually ask you a) if you've had the baby, b) why you haven't had the baby, and c) when you think you will have the baby. The only one of those questions I can definitively answer is a). As my midwife says, we all crap on our own time (no one asks you when you think you'll take your next poop, or expects it to happen on a certain timeline); baby will come on its own timetable, too. So I am content to wait. I will allow this little one to be a free soul as much as I've always tried to be one myself.
Lots of work going on in the house right now--Adam, sister-in-law Christine and friend Scott have completely demo'd the basement, gutting it of all paneling, partitions, walls, etc., so that now it's just one big empty shell. There was lots of mold on the materials they got rid of, but luckily, the mold hasn't appeared to do much travelling into the floor joists or permanent structures, so we've lucked out. Today they are scraping paint, bleaching the mold and eventually they'll paint all the walls with a mold-resistant white paint, which will brighten up the basement and deter new mold growth. Already, it's like an entirely different basement down there.
So for now, D-Day has arrived and we are happy about it, but not really spending a lot of time thinking about it. Although, this morning, I got up for my 5th trip to the bathroom, and unable to fall back asleep, I stood in the window and listened to the dawn chorus of birds, as they woke from their slumber and stretched their vocal pipes. I whispered to baby that the birds were singing for him/her on the expected day of arrival. I knew it was silly, but it made me smile anyway.
26 May. Perhaps not a day that will live in infamy or be a cause for ticker tape parades, but one that Adam and I will think about with fondness in the years to come. And for now, it's all up to baby...let the games begin!
For the last week and a half, I've been getting constant phone calls, e-mails, facebook posts, etc., asking me if "that baby has come yet?". Funny because all the books and all your female friends who've been through this before tell you that people will continually ask you a) if you've had the baby, b) why you haven't had the baby, and c) when you think you will have the baby. The only one of those questions I can definitively answer is a). As my midwife says, we all crap on our own time (no one asks you when you think you'll take your next poop, or expects it to happen on a certain timeline); baby will come on its own timetable, too. So I am content to wait. I will allow this little one to be a free soul as much as I've always tried to be one myself.
Lots of work going on in the house right now--Adam, sister-in-law Christine and friend Scott have completely demo'd the basement, gutting it of all paneling, partitions, walls, etc., so that now it's just one big empty shell. There was lots of mold on the materials they got rid of, but luckily, the mold hasn't appeared to do much travelling into the floor joists or permanent structures, so we've lucked out. Today they are scraping paint, bleaching the mold and eventually they'll paint all the walls with a mold-resistant white paint, which will brighten up the basement and deter new mold growth. Already, it's like an entirely different basement down there.
So for now, D-Day has arrived and we are happy about it, but not really spending a lot of time thinking about it. Although, this morning, I got up for my 5th trip to the bathroom, and unable to fall back asleep, I stood in the window and listened to the dawn chorus of birds, as they woke from their slumber and stretched their vocal pipes. I whispered to baby that the birds were singing for him/her on the expected day of arrival. I knew it was silly, but it made me smile anyway.
26 May. Perhaps not a day that will live in infamy or be a cause for ticker tape parades, but one that Adam and I will think about with fondness in the years to come. And for now, it's all up to baby...let the games begin!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Dumpster Diving
Lots going on here at Chez Bailey-Mittman, so much that I think it'll be easier to make a list rather than go through the motions of explanation. Hope you'll humor me.
1) Adam called for a dumpster and haggled between two companies before finally settling on a dumpster priced roughly $100 less than the original quote. Good negotiating, hubby! Dumpster arrived on a huge 8-wheeled dump truck this afternoon, and it took the driver about 25 minutes to back down our narrow driveway to deposit said dumpster in front of our garage. It felt like the good ole days of childhood where watching a big truck was big news; I think I stood in the doorway and stared the entire 25 minutes. It's the little things, I guess.
2) My sis-in-law Christine arrives in town on Sunday to help Adam gut the basement of all moisture/mold trapping structural materials. And where will all this refuse go? See 1).
3) Rearranging is the name of the game. After moving our entire office into the living room, we decided (aka: Adam suggested, I concurred, Adam renegged, I pushed, Adam relented) this morning to rearrange our bedroom, too! Rearranging is fun, fun, fun, so why not work it into the entire house? The big issue was trying to get our newly-acquired bassinet into the bedroom; shifting our furniture around did the job, and also forced us to take a look at the various sundry items we've been accumulating in the bedroom for the last several years...not THOSE items, you dirty-minded people! I'm talking about trinkets, receipts, random business cards, lanyards, foreign coins, etc. Also known as, stuff Adam puts in his pockets during the course of his day and then unloads on the bedroom dressers before bed at night. Now they're gone, matie!
4) I couldn't resist talking a little about this, considering it's funny, and I alluded to it several months ago. I've been volunteering with an organization called Walk & Bike Lansing , which is trying to make Lansing streets safer for pedestrians, cyclists and disabled folks. Anyway, I've been spending two evenings a week walking around the city, going door-to-door to get signatures to get this petition on the next ballot. I realized that my frequent urinary needs would not be accomodated while walking around, so I finally, after nine months, broke down and wore an incontinence pad! I was actually quite excited about the idea of peeing my pants with no one around me knowing...but wouldn't you know, I never ended up using it! I think the heat that day caused me to sweat out all potential liquids in my body, so I reluctantly removed the pad when getting home. Shucks. However, a few "incidents" along the way made up for my disappointment. I went to the door of a house that stank so much I about wretched, and was about to leave when the morbidly obese resident opened the door. I kept my gagging to a minimum as I gave him my spiel, and luckily after all that, he signed the petition. When visiting his next-door neighbor, she commended me on being able to stand the smell of his house long enough to get a signature. She informed me that at one point, he had harbored twenty-nine cats in his house before she called the humane society to have them removed. Based on the "aroma" at that house, my gut tells me that his sweet little kitties have gotten back into the business of reproducing. Later, I knocked on the door of a house that I could see through the window had dozens of parakeets flying around. Luckily, they didn't open the door.
5) Two more babies of friends were born in the last few weeks--welcome to the world Orlo Izaak and Ryan Timothy! You kids have got some great parents!
6) My prenatal visit went smoothly yesterday. The only big change was that my belly is starting to measure smaller than before, suggesting baby has dropped into my pelvic region, ready for eventual delivery. This doesn't give a timeline for when labor will begin, however. For all we know, I might still be two weeks away (or two hours, who knows?). In any case, all is well, but for the fact that my belly has evidently stretched as much as it's gonna, and baby is cramped and uncomfortable, to the point that the midwives could barely distinguish all of baby's body parts. They just kept saying, "Wow, your belly is just full of baby!" No surprise to me after nine months.
7) I found Greg House in the bassinet this morning (we had it out in the living room all night), so we will definitely be shutting the bedroom door off to him once baby arrives, so he doesn't decide to cozy up next to baby and accidentally-on-purpose suffocate the poor tyke.
8) Kika was in rare form this evening at the park. After walking a good 45-minutes, she broke into a bit of a run when her 14-year old body should've been tired and sore and asking for an ice pack. Upon getting back into the car, her nose and chompers promptly headed straight for an open bag of kettle chips.
Lesson of the day: Despite all of the shifting and rearranging, some things never change.
1) Adam called for a dumpster and haggled between two companies before finally settling on a dumpster priced roughly $100 less than the original quote. Good negotiating, hubby! Dumpster arrived on a huge 8-wheeled dump truck this afternoon, and it took the driver about 25 minutes to back down our narrow driveway to deposit said dumpster in front of our garage. It felt like the good ole days of childhood where watching a big truck was big news; I think I stood in the doorway and stared the entire 25 minutes. It's the little things, I guess.
2) My sis-in-law Christine arrives in town on Sunday to help Adam gut the basement of all moisture/mold trapping structural materials. And where will all this refuse go? See 1).
3) Rearranging is the name of the game. After moving our entire office into the living room, we decided (aka: Adam suggested, I concurred, Adam renegged, I pushed, Adam relented) this morning to rearrange our bedroom, too! Rearranging is fun, fun, fun, so why not work it into the entire house? The big issue was trying to get our newly-acquired bassinet into the bedroom; shifting our furniture around did the job, and also forced us to take a look at the various sundry items we've been accumulating in the bedroom for the last several years...not THOSE items, you dirty-minded people! I'm talking about trinkets, receipts, random business cards, lanyards, foreign coins, etc. Also known as, stuff Adam puts in his pockets during the course of his day and then unloads on the bedroom dressers before bed at night. Now they're gone, matie!
4) I couldn't resist talking a little about this, considering it's funny, and I alluded to it several months ago. I've been volunteering with an organization called Walk & Bike Lansing , which is trying to make Lansing streets safer for pedestrians, cyclists and disabled folks. Anyway, I've been spending two evenings a week walking around the city, going door-to-door to get signatures to get this petition on the next ballot. I realized that my frequent urinary needs would not be accomodated while walking around, so I finally, after nine months, broke down and wore an incontinence pad! I was actually quite excited about the idea of peeing my pants with no one around me knowing...but wouldn't you know, I never ended up using it! I think the heat that day caused me to sweat out all potential liquids in my body, so I reluctantly removed the pad when getting home. Shucks. However, a few "incidents" along the way made up for my disappointment. I went to the door of a house that stank so much I about wretched, and was about to leave when the morbidly obese resident opened the door. I kept my gagging to a minimum as I gave him my spiel, and luckily after all that, he signed the petition. When visiting his next-door neighbor, she commended me on being able to stand the smell of his house long enough to get a signature. She informed me that at one point, he had harbored twenty-nine cats in his house before she called the humane society to have them removed. Based on the "aroma" at that house, my gut tells me that his sweet little kitties have gotten back into the business of reproducing. Later, I knocked on the door of a house that I could see through the window had dozens of parakeets flying around. Luckily, they didn't open the door.
5) Two more babies of friends were born in the last few weeks--welcome to the world Orlo Izaak and Ryan Timothy! You kids have got some great parents!
6) My prenatal visit went smoothly yesterday. The only big change was that my belly is starting to measure smaller than before, suggesting baby has dropped into my pelvic region, ready for eventual delivery. This doesn't give a timeline for when labor will begin, however. For all we know, I might still be two weeks away (or two hours, who knows?). In any case, all is well, but for the fact that my belly has evidently stretched as much as it's gonna, and baby is cramped and uncomfortable, to the point that the midwives could barely distinguish all of baby's body parts. They just kept saying, "Wow, your belly is just full of baby!" No surprise to me after nine months.
7) I found Greg House in the bassinet this morning (we had it out in the living room all night), so we will definitely be shutting the bedroom door off to him once baby arrives, so he doesn't decide to cozy up next to baby and accidentally-on-purpose suffocate the poor tyke.
8) Kika was in rare form this evening at the park. After walking a good 45-minutes, she broke into a bit of a run when her 14-year old body should've been tired and sore and asking for an ice pack. Upon getting back into the car, her nose and chompers promptly headed straight for an open bag of kettle chips.
Lesson of the day: Despite all of the shifting and rearranging, some things never change.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Amongst Good Friends
A couple weeks ago, some very sweet friends threw Adam and me a "Welcome-home-Adam-Congrats-on-getting-married-and-Welcome-baby!" party. It was fantastic, low-key and filled with lots of our wonderful friends, some of whom we hadn't seen in months or even years! Loads of kids were around, too, so we got a taste of what our house will be like in just a couple years' time...Thanks to Sarah M, Sarah P, Sherry and Emily for all their hard work and nice gestures. We had a great time!
Sarah M. and I yucking it up for the camera
Steve, Adam and Max canoodling...
Sherry helping with indoor/outdoor communications
First comes love, then comes marriage...you know the rest...!
Isaac beaming for the camera
Andrew smiling after feeling the baby move in my belly
Not quite sure what Luke was drinking...
Kids at play...
And the wine was flowing that day...
Thank goodness it was a large living room, with all the kids and toys!
Sarah P. trying to get the pregnant lady drunk!
George and Em catching up with Jim
"Balloon, daddy!"
I got to see Tameka and Li'l Benny after two years!!
Cecilia's 5 1/2 month baby belly meets my 9 month baby belly
Sarah M. and I yucking it up for the camera
Steve, Adam and Max canoodling...
Sherry helping with indoor/outdoor communications
First comes love, then comes marriage...you know the rest...!
Isaac beaming for the camera
Andrew smiling after feeling the baby move in my belly
Not quite sure what Luke was drinking...
Kids at play...
And the wine was flowing that day...
Thank goodness it was a large living room, with all the kids and toys!
Sarah P. trying to get the pregnant lady drunk!
George and Em catching up with Jim
"Balloon, daddy!"
I got to see Tameka and Li'l Benny after two years!!
Cecilia's 5 1/2 month baby belly meets my 9 month baby belly
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Birds of a Feather...Nest Together
First and foremost, I'd like to send out massive apologies to the many people who thought I'd officially gone into labor, based on the vague post I left on Facebook a couple days ago. I should have been a little more clear, in that I'm starting to feel the first signs that labor is approaching, not arriving. Sorry, everyone! Hopefully, still another week or more left before baby makes its grand entrance.
The last week and change has been wrought with my increasing anxiety (and constant nagging toward Adam) about the state of the house. The office-turned-baby-room still had not one piece of furniture swapped out, piles of paperwork everywhere, and there were no signs that the big change was going to occur anytime soon. Knowing that babies come on their own timeline, and not necessarily sensitive to their future parents' planning process, I felt like it was time to step things up. We did get the car seat installed by one of the midwives, who is a certified infant seat inspector, so that was a weight off our shoulders; at least baby could legally come home with us after it was born! But home was the operative word...what would be the state of this place once baby arrived here?
This past weekend has set a lot of those worries aside. Adam (and friends) did an amazing job of rearranging the house to accomodate our new arrival. The office has been moved into the living room (we actually really like the new arrangement, almost to the point of wondering why we never did it before!), and the office is now being converted to the future baby's room. Notice I've never called it a "nursery", since neither Adam nor I has a creative or decorative bone in our bodies, so we are literally just going to be putting a crib, a rocking chair and a dresser in there, and calling it a day! I doubt the baby will care if there is Pooh Bear or Kermit the Frog on the walls, anyway...
Tomorrow, I will wash all the baby clothes and cloth diapers we've inherited from friends, load up the dresser with all these goodies, and then finish packing my overnight bag for the big day. Adam has been patting my belly a lot more recently, talking directly to the baby to let him/her know of the life s/he will have upon birth. I think he's really excited, even through our mutual terror at the idea of a newborn in the house. Oh! One more serendipitous occurrence...I was talking to midwife Shelly about not having a bassinet for baby (I never thought I'd need one, but have been convinced by several women that I will NOT want to get up five times per night to nurse the baby in its room if I can just grab it from where it's sleeping in the bassinet beside my bed...hey, I'm all for getting better sleep!). Anyway, she told us that she had one at her house that she'd been trying to sell on Craig's list with no bites, so she's going to let us borrow it for a few months! So glad to not have to buy this, since we'll use it for such a short period of time. We've gotten so many nice hand-me-downs from friends and family over the last nine moths, I look forward to being able to pay the favor forward to some other friend or relative in the future.
So that's that. Adam and I are savoring the last few days of childlessness together by gorging on desserts, rented movies and sleeping in till 10am. It's been good. Speaking of sleep, it's about that time now; I think I can already hear Ads snoring.
'Night.
The last week and change has been wrought with my increasing anxiety (and constant nagging toward Adam) about the state of the house. The office-turned-baby-room still had not one piece of furniture swapped out, piles of paperwork everywhere, and there were no signs that the big change was going to occur anytime soon. Knowing that babies come on their own timeline, and not necessarily sensitive to their future parents' planning process, I felt like it was time to step things up. We did get the car seat installed by one of the midwives, who is a certified infant seat inspector, so that was a weight off our shoulders; at least baby could legally come home with us after it was born! But home was the operative word...what would be the state of this place once baby arrived here?
This past weekend has set a lot of those worries aside. Adam (and friends) did an amazing job of rearranging the house to accomodate our new arrival. The office has been moved into the living room (we actually really like the new arrangement, almost to the point of wondering why we never did it before!), and the office is now being converted to the future baby's room. Notice I've never called it a "nursery", since neither Adam nor I has a creative or decorative bone in our bodies, so we are literally just going to be putting a crib, a rocking chair and a dresser in there, and calling it a day! I doubt the baby will care if there is Pooh Bear or Kermit the Frog on the walls, anyway...
Tomorrow, I will wash all the baby clothes and cloth diapers we've inherited from friends, load up the dresser with all these goodies, and then finish packing my overnight bag for the big day. Adam has been patting my belly a lot more recently, talking directly to the baby to let him/her know of the life s/he will have upon birth. I think he's really excited, even through our mutual terror at the idea of a newborn in the house. Oh! One more serendipitous occurrence...I was talking to midwife Shelly about not having a bassinet for baby (I never thought I'd need one, but have been convinced by several women that I will NOT want to get up five times per night to nurse the baby in its room if I can just grab it from where it's sleeping in the bassinet beside my bed...hey, I'm all for getting better sleep!). Anyway, she told us that she had one at her house that she'd been trying to sell on Craig's list with no bites, so she's going to let us borrow it for a few months! So glad to not have to buy this, since we'll use it for such a short period of time. We've gotten so many nice hand-me-downs from friends and family over the last nine moths, I look forward to being able to pay the favor forward to some other friend or relative in the future.
So that's that. Adam and I are savoring the last few days of childlessness together by gorging on desserts, rented movies and sleeping in till 10am. It's been good. Speaking of sleep, it's about that time now; I think I can already hear Ads snoring.
'Night.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Random Memories
I think I'm in the "taking stock" phase of my life right now, as I'm going over what my life has been like thus far. I've started to have a lot of memories (childhood, teenage, young adult, not-too-distant) come back to visit me again as I'm about to leave one aspect of my life behind to assume another. It's a very internal process, but one (surprise, surprise) I'm willing to share. Here are just a few of the memories that have cropped up in the last few days or minutes...
When I was two years old, my parents had my sister and me baptized at the Catholic church we had just started attending. I didn't feel like being baptized that particular day, and was annoyed to have a strange priest holding me up in front of a crowd of people I didn't know. I decided that I would repay the favor to my folks by screaming bloody murder as the water came cascading over my forehead. I wasn't really scared or uncomfortable. I was just pissed.
______________
Ten years ago, I cried all the way through my best friend Katie's wedding. I was one of her bridesmaids, so all the pictures of me have me looking like I just witnessed a horrible kindergarten bus accident. And I actually knew and loved her husband; I was just a total sap about my friend getting married.
_____________
When I was twelve or thirteen, I found a female cat with a litter of kittens hiding in the sewer in the cul-de-sac we lived on. I knew there was no way my parents would let me have a cat, but the idea of them starving was too much to bear. I snuck food from the dinner table into my napkin and took it outside to feed the hungry mother kitten. She never hissed or growled at me, just ate the pepper steak (before I was vegetarian) gratefully.
______________
My first day living in New York City, my parents and sister dropped me off in my new dorm room, where I was surrounded by a bunch of really sophisticated kids from the New York/New Jersey suburbs. Just as I was starting to wonder if I'd gotten in over my head coming to the big city, my new roommate handed me my first piece of mail. It was a card from my mother. She'd written a note inside that said, "I want to be just like you when I grow up!" That card is still in my scrapbook, some 14 years later.
_________________
My second date with Adam, he came to my place for pizza and a movie. He brought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, saying that if he'd asked me out when he'd wanted to (he didn't quite have his druthers) we would have been dating for Valentine's Day. So the flowers were a belated Valentine's Day gift. I was so swept away by this that I reached up to give him a big hug. Just as I was pulling back, he pulled me in for our first kiss. Best kiss ever. Period.
________________
When I was fourteen or fifteen, I was baby-sitting for the family a few doors down, and their two-year old refused to get changed into his pajamas for bed. As I was trying to lay down the law, he informed me in the most sinister voice I'd ever heard, "I'm going to tell my mommy and daddy you touched me down there!" My whole body went cold to think a little kid could blackmail me with such a horrible accusation. I tried not to let him know he'd scared me with that, but needless to say, he did not wear his pajamas to bed that night.
____________________
Fourth date with Adam, back at his apartment in Queens, I met Shabbi for the first time. I had brought a rawhide with me as a special treat to win her over. She was happy and jumped all over me to say thanks. When Adam suggested we take her for a nighttime stroll around the local park, we headed out to the car where Shabbi promptly jumped into the front passenger seat. Still wanting to show Adam that I was cool with his pup, I sat in the back of the car so Shabbi could sit up front with her main man.
_______________________
When I was three and my sister Shannon was two, she found an item of clothing in our closet that had a Disney label on the outside. Winnie-the-Pooh's picture was on the label, and my sister proudly pointed to it and told my mother and me, "That's a picture of Lauren from when she was a baby!"
_____________________
SO many happy memories of Adam, Shabbi, Kika and I at various parks. These are some of my most favorite memories.
_______________________
I guess that's all for now. It's late and I'm getting tired (and my back is killing me no matter how many yoga poses I do). Sleep tight.
When I was two years old, my parents had my sister and me baptized at the Catholic church we had just started attending. I didn't feel like being baptized that particular day, and was annoyed to have a strange priest holding me up in front of a crowd of people I didn't know. I decided that I would repay the favor to my folks by screaming bloody murder as the water came cascading over my forehead. I wasn't really scared or uncomfortable. I was just pissed.
______________
Ten years ago, I cried all the way through my best friend Katie's wedding. I was one of her bridesmaids, so all the pictures of me have me looking like I just witnessed a horrible kindergarten bus accident. And I actually knew and loved her husband; I was just a total sap about my friend getting married.
_____________
When I was twelve or thirteen, I found a female cat with a litter of kittens hiding in the sewer in the cul-de-sac we lived on. I knew there was no way my parents would let me have a cat, but the idea of them starving was too much to bear. I snuck food from the dinner table into my napkin and took it outside to feed the hungry mother kitten. She never hissed or growled at me, just ate the pepper steak (before I was vegetarian) gratefully.
______________
My first day living in New York City, my parents and sister dropped me off in my new dorm room, where I was surrounded by a bunch of really sophisticated kids from the New York/New Jersey suburbs. Just as I was starting to wonder if I'd gotten in over my head coming to the big city, my new roommate handed me my first piece of mail. It was a card from my mother. She'd written a note inside that said, "I want to be just like you when I grow up!" That card is still in my scrapbook, some 14 years later.
_________________
My second date with Adam, he came to my place for pizza and a movie. He brought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, saying that if he'd asked me out when he'd wanted to (he didn't quite have his druthers) we would have been dating for Valentine's Day. So the flowers were a belated Valentine's Day gift. I was so swept away by this that I reached up to give him a big hug. Just as I was pulling back, he pulled me in for our first kiss. Best kiss ever. Period.
________________
When I was fourteen or fifteen, I was baby-sitting for the family a few doors down, and their two-year old refused to get changed into his pajamas for bed. As I was trying to lay down the law, he informed me in the most sinister voice I'd ever heard, "I'm going to tell my mommy and daddy you touched me down there!" My whole body went cold to think a little kid could blackmail me with such a horrible accusation. I tried not to let him know he'd scared me with that, but needless to say, he did not wear his pajamas to bed that night.
____________________
Fourth date with Adam, back at his apartment in Queens, I met Shabbi for the first time. I had brought a rawhide with me as a special treat to win her over. She was happy and jumped all over me to say thanks. When Adam suggested we take her for a nighttime stroll around the local park, we headed out to the car where Shabbi promptly jumped into the front passenger seat. Still wanting to show Adam that I was cool with his pup, I sat in the back of the car so Shabbi could sit up front with her main man.
_______________________
When I was three and my sister Shannon was two, she found an item of clothing in our closet that had a Disney label on the outside. Winnie-the-Pooh's picture was on the label, and my sister proudly pointed to it and told my mother and me, "That's a picture of Lauren from when she was a baby!"
_____________________
SO many happy memories of Adam, Shabbi, Kika and I at various parks. These are some of my most favorite memories.
_______________________
I guess that's all for now. It's late and I'm getting tired (and my back is killing me no matter how many yoga poses I do). Sleep tight.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Greg House and the Invasion of the Holstein Cow
Yesterday morning, Adam and I were lying in bed, chatting before rising to start our day. All of a sudden, we heard a big crash from the rear part of the house. While not exactly an everyday occurence, we've become accustomed to Greg House knocking over the garbage can to more easily rifle through it, knock various items off of shelves in his attempts to jump to the kitchen window, or just be a major pain in the arse in general. So this particular instance just had us rolling our eyes and shrugging, knowing we'd get to it when we got to it.
Just as we were about to continue our conversation, we heard Greg's pitiful cry echoing throughout the house, over and over again. We looked at each other; could he have hurt himself? Suddenly, images of him pinned underneath the garbage can or on the floor with a broken leg filled my head. I leapt out of bed as fast as my big self could, and ran into the kitchen. He was nowhere to be found.
"Greg?" I called out hesitantly. I was starting to be afraid of what I'd find.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a big white and black cat came racing into the kitchen, glanced at me over its shoulder, then hot-footed it down the basement stairs. Greg House came tearing after him, growling and meowing in the process. All my brain could compute was, The big holstein-cow-cat from the neighborhood is in my house! I ran out of the kitchen and started calling Adam.
"Ads! There's another cat in our house and Greg House just chased it down to the basement!" In pregnant-woman-speak, that meant Do something!
Adam jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen, realized he didn't have his eyeglasses on so he couldn't see anything, yelled for me to find them for him, then grabbed them from me and rushed down to the basement. When he came back up, he informed me that both cats were gone. The Holstein cow had pushed in the screen of one of the windows to get into the house. A table that was conveniently located right beneath that window enabled both cats to jump back through the window to get outside.
Great. I wasn't worried about Greg House running away; he knows where his food comes from. I was more worried about him chasing this cat into the street and getting hit by a car, or getting into a fight with the cat and getting some kitty disease (our vets won't vaccinate him until his skin allergy is diagnosed and successfully treated). Just great.
I grabbed a handful of his food and dropped it into his bowl over and over again; the sound of the kibbles hitting the bowl always brings him back home. This time it was taking longer than usual, however. I was starting to get nervous. Adam called me from the front of the house a few minutes later, however. Greg had sauntered up to the front door as if just coming back from a hot night on the town. Like, What's up, bro? Adam immediately went down to the basement, restored the screen in the window, and removed the table from underneath to prevent any future breakouts.
This morning, Greg House woke me up around 6am for breakfast, but I pushed him off so I could sleep a few more winks. Usually he harasses me even more, so I was surprised by 6:37am, when Kika jumped off the bed to go outside, that Greg House wasn't right there, crying to be fed. Adam let Kika out and fed both kids. When I joined him in the kitchen, he informed me that when he let Kika out, he let Greg House in. "That little f-cker was out and about all night! He's still managing to jump out that basement window!"
I remembered that Greg had woken me up at 6am, so I feebly remarked that he hadn't been out all night, just the last half hour. Adam grunted a reply and shook his head at our boy as he snarfed down his kibbles.
Just great.
Just as we were about to continue our conversation, we heard Greg's pitiful cry echoing throughout the house, over and over again. We looked at each other; could he have hurt himself? Suddenly, images of him pinned underneath the garbage can or on the floor with a broken leg filled my head. I leapt out of bed as fast as my big self could, and ran into the kitchen. He was nowhere to be found.
"Greg?" I called out hesitantly. I was starting to be afraid of what I'd find.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a big white and black cat came racing into the kitchen, glanced at me over its shoulder, then hot-footed it down the basement stairs. Greg House came tearing after him, growling and meowing in the process. All my brain could compute was, The big holstein-cow-cat from the neighborhood is in my house! I ran out of the kitchen and started calling Adam.
"Ads! There's another cat in our house and Greg House just chased it down to the basement!" In pregnant-woman-speak, that meant Do something!
Adam jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen, realized he didn't have his eyeglasses on so he couldn't see anything, yelled for me to find them for him, then grabbed them from me and rushed down to the basement. When he came back up, he informed me that both cats were gone. The Holstein cow had pushed in the screen of one of the windows to get into the house. A table that was conveniently located right beneath that window enabled both cats to jump back through the window to get outside.
Great. I wasn't worried about Greg House running away; he knows where his food comes from. I was more worried about him chasing this cat into the street and getting hit by a car, or getting into a fight with the cat and getting some kitty disease (our vets won't vaccinate him until his skin allergy is diagnosed and successfully treated). Just great.
I grabbed a handful of his food and dropped it into his bowl over and over again; the sound of the kibbles hitting the bowl always brings him back home. This time it was taking longer than usual, however. I was starting to get nervous. Adam called me from the front of the house a few minutes later, however. Greg had sauntered up to the front door as if just coming back from a hot night on the town. Like, What's up, bro? Adam immediately went down to the basement, restored the screen in the window, and removed the table from underneath to prevent any future breakouts.
This morning, Greg House woke me up around 6am for breakfast, but I pushed him off so I could sleep a few more winks. Usually he harasses me even more, so I was surprised by 6:37am, when Kika jumped off the bed to go outside, that Greg House wasn't right there, crying to be fed. Adam let Kika out and fed both kids. When I joined him in the kitchen, he informed me that when he let Kika out, he let Greg House in. "That little f-cker was out and about all night! He's still managing to jump out that basement window!"
I remembered that Greg had woken me up at 6am, so I feebly remarked that he hadn't been out all night, just the last half hour. Adam grunted a reply and shook his head at our boy as he snarfed down his kibbles.
Just great.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Adam Did This
From time to time, Adam points at my belly and proudly says, in his best nine-year old voice, "I did that!" Last night I let him take a picture of his accomplishment.
The Toad Prince
Just a few hours after writing yesterday's post about all my backyard nature goings-on, look who I found hanging out under the stairs to our back porch. I wanted to kiss him but Adam told me I'd already scored the prince of all princes in him, so alas! I set this little guy free to delight some other young woman's life...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Welcome, Lucy Kavin!
Just a quick shout out to yet another beautiful baby born--Lucy Kavin, born to my very good childhood friends Katie and Nevin. Adam and I are so deliriously happy for the entire family and can't wait to visit with you all soon!
Much love!
Much love!
The Birds and The Bees
I recognize that I am part of a very small handful of people--in fact, I might be the only person--who actually cares about the following, but I thought that I would write about it anyway. It actually seems appropo in so many ways considering all the fertility and fecundity that's occurring all around (and inside) me...
The last two weeks have met me with many signs of spring. Behind our house we have a huge,~80-ft tall weeping willow tree (which I love love love, because weeping willows always intrigued me as a child, and I desperately wanted one and am so glad to have one now). It's really old, as Mrs. G., who's lived in the neighborhood for 40+ years, said it was just as tall when she moved in as it is now. Adam despises it because of all the branches and leaves that it showers on our garage and backyard; I love it because of the wetland microcosm that it provides in our backyard.
Just 3 weeks ago, I heard the first sounds of the American Toad calling from the wetland area surrounding the willow tree. Their calls fill the night air with a constant flutter of chirps, and honestly made me feel a little less lonely prior to Adam's arrival home. Once he came home, it was nice to share the first signs of spring with him, even if he does still hate that willow tree.
Two weeks ago, I started hearing the familiar but rather uncommon (at least to my yard) call of the White-throated sparrow. One can't mistake the "Ollllllld-Saaaaaaaaam-Peabody-Peabody-Peabody" call of this little guy. He's been an annual treat to my backyard for the last three years, singing his heart out for a few days as he passes through on his way further north for the summer. His call is one that is so easily imitated, that I will often whistle back to him to see if he'll take the audio "bait". It's a fun game, but one that I happily lose.
Last week, upon arriving home from work, Adam and I were about to get out of the car when I saw a little yellow bird flitting through the immature white pine in my backyard. I cautioned Adam not to get out of the car just yet; instead, we waited for the little one to get closer, and to my great pleasure and surprise, I found it was a Yellow Warbler! While not rare by any means, I've never had the pleasure of seeing one in my backyard, so it was extremely exciting for me. Adam humored me for a few minutes, but I do believe that even he was a little excited by the sighting of a till-then-unseen bird in our backyard. I'm starting to think our little piece of the rock offers more habitat than I've previously thought.
Yesterday, while sitting outside, I noticed a big fat fox squirrel jumping from limb to limb amongst the trees. I suppose he was getting too close to a grackle nest, however, because a pair started dive-bombing and attacking this squirrel to no end. I was rivited by this scene of backyard wildlife in action. The squirrel seemed to be mocking the threatening advances of the grackles, laughing as they shrieked, panic-stricken as he invaded their territory. Eventually the scene played out and all was quiet again.
I guess I should mention something about bees since I've exhausted discussion on birds...the bumblebees are in full force now. They are all over my weed-infested lawn, perpetuating more weeds for my ever-so-grateful neighbors. I have every intention of digging up the weeds, planting native Michigan flowers and watching my little backyard ecosytem flourish, but for now, limited mobility and increased fatigure are taking hold. Until I regain a bit of my bodily independence and energy, I'll have to enjoy my surprisingly active ecosystem for now.
The last two weeks have met me with many signs of spring. Behind our house we have a huge,~80-ft tall weeping willow tree (which I love love love, because weeping willows always intrigued me as a child, and I desperately wanted one and am so glad to have one now). It's really old, as Mrs. G., who's lived in the neighborhood for 40+ years, said it was just as tall when she moved in as it is now. Adam despises it because of all the branches and leaves that it showers on our garage and backyard; I love it because of the wetland microcosm that it provides in our backyard.
Just 3 weeks ago, I heard the first sounds of the American Toad calling from the wetland area surrounding the willow tree. Their calls fill the night air with a constant flutter of chirps, and honestly made me feel a little less lonely prior to Adam's arrival home. Once he came home, it was nice to share the first signs of spring with him, even if he does still hate that willow tree.
Two weeks ago, I started hearing the familiar but rather uncommon (at least to my yard) call of the White-throated sparrow. One can't mistake the "Ollllllld-Saaaaaaaaam-Peabody-Peabody-Peabody" call of this little guy. He's been an annual treat to my backyard for the last three years, singing his heart out for a few days as he passes through on his way further north for the summer. His call is one that is so easily imitated, that I will often whistle back to him to see if he'll take the audio "bait". It's a fun game, but one that I happily lose.
Last week, upon arriving home from work, Adam and I were about to get out of the car when I saw a little yellow bird flitting through the immature white pine in my backyard. I cautioned Adam not to get out of the car just yet; instead, we waited for the little one to get closer, and to my great pleasure and surprise, I found it was a Yellow Warbler! While not rare by any means, I've never had the pleasure of seeing one in my backyard, so it was extremely exciting for me. Adam humored me for a few minutes, but I do believe that even he was a little excited by the sighting of a till-then-unseen bird in our backyard. I'm starting to think our little piece of the rock offers more habitat than I've previously thought.
Yesterday, while sitting outside, I noticed a big fat fox squirrel jumping from limb to limb amongst the trees. I suppose he was getting too close to a grackle nest, however, because a pair started dive-bombing and attacking this squirrel to no end. I was rivited by this scene of backyard wildlife in action. The squirrel seemed to be mocking the threatening advances of the grackles, laughing as they shrieked, panic-stricken as he invaded their territory. Eventually the scene played out and all was quiet again.
I guess I should mention something about bees since I've exhausted discussion on birds...the bumblebees are in full force now. They are all over my weed-infested lawn, perpetuating more weeds for my ever-so-grateful neighbors. I have every intention of digging up the weeds, planting native Michigan flowers and watching my little backyard ecosytem flourish, but for now, limited mobility and increased fatigure are taking hold. Until I regain a bit of my bodily independence and energy, I'll have to enjoy my surprisingly active ecosystem for now.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Pre-Partum Ponderings
Despite popular opinion that I am only just now "coming up for air" since Adam's arrival back home last weekend (implying that somehow I've either been holding my breath for an entire week or else breathing some noxious fart air that he's produced), I've actually been working my butt off at my job. This was my last week at work before heading into maternity leave--today was the official first day--and things got incredibly busy as I tried to wrap up loose ends. Not to mention the fact that I've been getting crappy sleep lately, so I just haven't had the fortitude to come home and do any blogging in the evenings.
Things are starting to come down to the wire, though, and I am very well aware. A woman from my birth class just had her baby--2 weeks early--and my girlfriend Katie, the second in my little triumvirate of pregnant friends, just gave birth to her daughter today, also two weeks early. I'm getting a little panicky about this baby coming ahead of schedule considering Adam and I have nothing prepared. Our office is still in a shambles; not in a shambles of dismantling and moving, mind you, but rather in the constant state of shambles that it always seems to be in. So, crib is not assembled, office furniture is not moved out, living room furniture is still where office furniture will need to be moved to...you get the idea. We are utterly and hopelessly unprepared for the huge move that we will have to make in the next few days in anticipation of baby's arrival, and I'm getting pretty worked up over it.
I've also come to the realization that I've been worked up about some other things too. The other night, in yet another bout of my recent-onset-of-middle-of-the-night insomnia, I actually convinced myself that this whole pregnancy thing wasn't real, that it's all been a nine-month long dream, similar to the entire season of "Dallas" when we thought Bobby Ewing had been killed, only to discover that it had been Pamela's dream all along. So I had one of those moments, completely in denial that Ads and I had gotten ourselves into this situation, that our lives were going to change, that we'd have this huge responsibility in the very near future. One hand over my belly, however, told me it was no dream, and I started to panic. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? When exactly did I sign up for this???
As push is coming to shove, I've realized my own fears surrounding the birth of the kid--I won't love my kid enough, I'm going to drop it or accidentally spill hot liquid on it and forever maim him/her. I've also realized my anxiety over how I feel I'm disappointing others with regard to the pregnancy. I know a lot of my girlfriends are surprised/disappointed by my seeming lack of enthusiasm about the baby coming. I think I let a lot of people down by specifically NOT registering and by not wanting a baby shower. That had more to do with preferring second-hand stuff and not wanting to consume raw materials from new items than it did with not being excited about baby, but I recognize that people seem to think one has to do with the other. I just don't want to sacrifice my own personal values simply because we're having a baby; I don't want to bring a baby into the world teaching it that people show their love by buying us things. I prefer to have good friends around who show their love by spending time with us; any second-hand items that folks are looking to get rid of are gratefully accepted, and the rest Ads and I will be responsible for getting ourselves. I spoke to my midwife about the feeling that 'I've let people down' by my actions and desires, and she reassured me that this is my pregnancy, and I have the latitude to decide how I want help. She suggested that when people ask me what it is that I need, I tell them "I'll need your company in a few months' time when I'm covered in spitup and poo, and I haven't spoken to another adult in days" or "I'd love for you to make me a simple meal because I don't have the energy or time to actually cook something edible that Adam and I could swallow." I don't want to hurt people's feelings, but I really don't want a bunch of store-bought gifts that we don't have room in our small house for anyway. I want from my friends what is most important--their time, love and friendship.
The other part--the seeming lack of enthusiasm--is kind of true, I suppose. Yesterday, my last day of work, was unexpectedly difficult for me, and I spent the entire evening afterward moping and feeling quite depressed. For the most part, when I've left a job in the past, it's been to start another job or to begin a new academic program. The current reason for leaving is such a different beast, and despite all my coworkers' well-wishes and encouragement, I found myself wanting to get up and head into the office this morning. I was grateful for the ability to sleep-in after yet another night of insomnia, but the feeling that I have no place to go, nothing to do, nothing to define what my day will be like, really hit home. I suppose I am very much the typical American in that way, as I guess I define myself by the academic/employment position that I hold. I just never knew that I felt that way until now. Even knowing that depresses me even more. Thing is, I'm not unhappy or depressed about baby arriving; I'm grieving the life that I've led all these years, which I know is going to change once baby arrives. I've spoken at length with Adam and my midwives about it, and they all agreed that it's completely normal. In fact, one midwife said she'd be more worried about me if I didn't seem a little anxious about the arrival of the baby and the big changes on the horizon. That made me feel better. But I still feel like a bad mum-to-be for not being completely and utterly over-the-moon about not running out with the girls for gin and tonics any random Saturday evening. I know that once baby is here, I will be over the moon about him/her; for now it's just hard to conceptualize.
So, these are just some of my contemplations, a little more private than I really thought I'd want to share, but hey, when have I ever held back before? I guess the one bright side is that there was a cute little red-haired baby at a nearby table during dinner tonight, and I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off me, either, so maybe that's the sign that babies like me, and I'll be a good mum someday soon. We'll see...
Things are starting to come down to the wire, though, and I am very well aware. A woman from my birth class just had her baby--2 weeks early--and my girlfriend Katie, the second in my little triumvirate of pregnant friends, just gave birth to her daughter today, also two weeks early. I'm getting a little panicky about this baby coming ahead of schedule considering Adam and I have nothing prepared. Our office is still in a shambles; not in a shambles of dismantling and moving, mind you, but rather in the constant state of shambles that it always seems to be in. So, crib is not assembled, office furniture is not moved out, living room furniture is still where office furniture will need to be moved to...you get the idea. We are utterly and hopelessly unprepared for the huge move that we will have to make in the next few days in anticipation of baby's arrival, and I'm getting pretty worked up over it.
I've also come to the realization that I've been worked up about some other things too. The other night, in yet another bout of my recent-onset-of-middle-of-the-night insomnia, I actually convinced myself that this whole pregnancy thing wasn't real, that it's all been a nine-month long dream, similar to the entire season of "Dallas" when we thought Bobby Ewing had been killed, only to discover that it had been Pamela's dream all along. So I had one of those moments, completely in denial that Ads and I had gotten ourselves into this situation, that our lives were going to change, that we'd have this huge responsibility in the very near future. One hand over my belly, however, told me it was no dream, and I started to panic. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? When exactly did I sign up for this???
As push is coming to shove, I've realized my own fears surrounding the birth of the kid--I won't love my kid enough, I'm going to drop it or accidentally spill hot liquid on it and forever maim him/her. I've also realized my anxiety over how I feel I'm disappointing others with regard to the pregnancy. I know a lot of my girlfriends are surprised/disappointed by my seeming lack of enthusiasm about the baby coming. I think I let a lot of people down by specifically NOT registering and by not wanting a baby shower. That had more to do with preferring second-hand stuff and not wanting to consume raw materials from new items than it did with not being excited about baby, but I recognize that people seem to think one has to do with the other. I just don't want to sacrifice my own personal values simply because we're having a baby; I don't want to bring a baby into the world teaching it that people show their love by buying us things. I prefer to have good friends around who show their love by spending time with us; any second-hand items that folks are looking to get rid of are gratefully accepted, and the rest Ads and I will be responsible for getting ourselves. I spoke to my midwife about the feeling that 'I've let people down' by my actions and desires, and she reassured me that this is my pregnancy, and I have the latitude to decide how I want help. She suggested that when people ask me what it is that I need, I tell them "I'll need your company in a few months' time when I'm covered in spitup and poo, and I haven't spoken to another adult in days" or "I'd love for you to make me a simple meal because I don't have the energy or time to actually cook something edible that Adam and I could swallow." I don't want to hurt people's feelings, but I really don't want a bunch of store-bought gifts that we don't have room in our small house for anyway. I want from my friends what is most important--their time, love and friendship.
The other part--the seeming lack of enthusiasm--is kind of true, I suppose. Yesterday, my last day of work, was unexpectedly difficult for me, and I spent the entire evening afterward moping and feeling quite depressed. For the most part, when I've left a job in the past, it's been to start another job or to begin a new academic program. The current reason for leaving is such a different beast, and despite all my coworkers' well-wishes and encouragement, I found myself wanting to get up and head into the office this morning. I was grateful for the ability to sleep-in after yet another night of insomnia, but the feeling that I have no place to go, nothing to do, nothing to define what my day will be like, really hit home. I suppose I am very much the typical American in that way, as I guess I define myself by the academic/employment position that I hold. I just never knew that I felt that way until now. Even knowing that depresses me even more. Thing is, I'm not unhappy or depressed about baby arriving; I'm grieving the life that I've led all these years, which I know is going to change once baby arrives. I've spoken at length with Adam and my midwives about it, and they all agreed that it's completely normal. In fact, one midwife said she'd be more worried about me if I didn't seem a little anxious about the arrival of the baby and the big changes on the horizon. That made me feel better. But I still feel like a bad mum-to-be for not being completely and utterly over-the-moon about not running out with the girls for gin and tonics any random Saturday evening. I know that once baby is here, I will be over the moon about him/her; for now it's just hard to conceptualize.
So, these are just some of my contemplations, a little more private than I really thought I'd want to share, but hey, when have I ever held back before? I guess the one bright side is that there was a cute little red-haired baby at a nearby table during dinner tonight, and I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off me, either, so maybe that's the sign that babies like me, and I'll be a good mum someday soon. We'll see...
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