Grape Did It

Announcing...an F key

Since...oh I don't know, about the time my "F" key unceremoniously dropped off my old computer (did you catch that? OLD computer?) I have been whining to Bud that I would like, nay, NEEEEED a new computer. But see, then we went and got pregnant and then bought a family car, and then a house and those things SIIIGH, COST MONEY. And, what occurs to me on re-reading that, is when people say annoying things like, "WHOO boy, get ready, babies are EXPEEENSIVE," (I have a hard time with the I've-been-there-and-you-haven't warning comments) they don't so much mean the diapers and potential formula or what have you, but the fact that then you have to provide a safe CAR and good ENVIRONMENT and all of that crap. That's maybe what they mean. Because honestly, between hand-me-downs and sweet friends who throw showers and second hand furniture, getting ready for baby really hasn't been that terrifically expensive.

Okay, wait, where the hell was I? Oh yeah, no F key. Which might have posed a problem in my quest to be online-vulgar except up until the end there, that good old dinosaur of a computer still allowed me to mash my finger into the hole the key had left and keep plunking out the F word. NOT A QUITTER, THAT COMPUTER.

So but yeah. Finally a few weeks ago I mentioned computers again and that maybe now it was time, maybe before baby gets here and things go nuts for a good long while and before my old computer stops working altogether which is when you'll see me cry because hello, post-partum emotions and I had so many pictures in there. And so Bud nosed around online because he is the deal finder in our household and BEEEHOLD. I am now typing on my new, lovely little white MacBook. I can even fit it into my (admittedly large) purse, whereas before I lumbered into the coffee shop with my old two-tonner hanging out the top and straining the seams as I ordered an, ouf, coffee please.

So when I saw the UPS truck zoom by the house this afternoon, I just sat there patiently waiting for him to realize that the numbers in our neighborhood are fucked up (new F key!) and when he parked outside of the house I locked the dogs in our bedroom because NO WAY are you guys messing this up for me by attacking our poor UPS guy and then...THEN. I signed for this lovely little piece of technological loveliness. And then let the dogs out and gave them the cardboard inserts from the box because them had been so good to wait in our bedroom even though them had no choice. And so if someone had walked into our house about two hours ago they would have seen me sitting on the couch with a maniacal look on my face, ripping into a package while the dogs, also caught up in the adrenalin, tore bits of cardboard all over the living room floor. Like, WE DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON BUT WE SURE ARE EXCITED ABOUT IT. The only thing that might have helped to complete that picture would have been if I'd had a touch of foam coming from my mouth. 

34 weeks

I had my 34 week appointment today and asked the doctor to estimate about how big the baby is now. He said he'd guess around 4 and a half pounds and I think he can say this on pretty good authority since he dug his hands into my belly to make sure the baby is now head down. I appreciate knowing he or she is in the ready position but my God, the mashing of the hands. Are you digging for treasure, or perhaps trying to squeeze the baby out today?

Actually, to be fair, I asked him to check the baby's position and the other FUN part of the hand-digging was when the doctor asked me where I felt the most movement and when I pointed to my upper right belly he nodded and said, "Mm hm, I thought so, that's where his butt and feet are." I knew it! Last night I asked Bud to feel right there, RIGHT THERE. That! That hard lump? That's not my belly! That is honest to goodness baby in there. PEOPLE. We are already patting our child on the ass. He deserves a gold star.

I, on the other hand, deserve many gold stars since I am moving around like an overweight grizzly bear who's just eaten ALL the salmon in the river, the greedy pig. This morning I asked Bud to bring the laundry up from the basement for me to fold and he grumbled that he does EVERYTHING AROUND HERE. I think you can guess how that went over but in case you can't, when I shot back that I am PREGNANT and I wish he could feel this for just ONE WEEK he asked me how long is he going to have to hear that? I think for life. I think that's fair.

When I told the people in the coffee shop today that I still had until August 9th, one of them nodded helpfully and said, "Mm HMM, you gonna get a LOT bigger still."

This is it for pictures, I'm sorry, you just don't want to see the frontal shot. It looks like I began drinking beer at 12 years old and haven't taken a break since. Which, you know, MAYBE, but you still shouldn't have to witness. No one should.

Ah yes, this is what they meant about an Alabama summer

Holy God I'm at the coffee shop (again) and the air conditioning is broken (again) and I can't quit staring at the young couple in front of me but I swear it's an accident because I ended up with one of my least favorite tables because this older woman who DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A COMPUTER took my table with the outlet next to it and I keep looking up and sighing at my woes but instead it just looks like I'm spying on them. Which, maybe that too.

All of this might be fine in April or even May but today it is approximately four thousand degrees out. I mean HOT HOT HOT. The kind of hot that I swear I won't complain about in the winter when I pile on my seventh sweatshirt but this? THIS IS DIFFERENT. And I'm pregnant and prone to these bizarre hot flashes where the world just kind of spins around me and I feel pin prickles of heat all over my arms. Oh what's that? You took the other good table next to an outlet and don't have a computer either? AND you say you're part of my generation? TRAITOR.

Whew. But I feel good, I feel like we all got some things hammered out yesterday. I might have cried, a little. No, kidding. I didn't cry, but I very much enjoyed hearing people's thoughts. I asked Summer on the phone this morning if she thought I was obsessing over this whole thing and I swear I HEARD her thoughtful pause, all, "HOW DO I PUT THIS TO HER DELICATELY?" before she said that she believes people tend to focus in on one thing to worry about and it seems like this whole labor and delivery thing has been mine. With someone else it might be getting baby to sleep through the night or...(MYGODWHATHAVEWEDONE)? I think this is a very fair answer. Only now I am wondering what I'm not worried about that I SHOULD BE?

And that's when we both decided it's the waiting and wondering that is the worst. Whether I like it or not, I'll take whatever gets thrown my way, what choice do I have? But it's the waiting that sucks. And it's not limited to child birth, no way. It's all the things coming up in your life that you can't fix because they simply haven't begun happening yet.

I remember when I moved from my freshman dorm to my first real apartment in college and I had dreams, ACTUAL DREAMS about where all the furniture would go. The problem was, I hadn't seen the apartment's exact lay out yet and so in my dreams the walls kept changing positions and, what the hell? Why is some pot smoking, tie-dyed wearing guy staying in my room? I thought this was my room?! Which is around when I'd wake up and wonder if I needed to be committed, for dreaming about an apartment.

And I thought I was all free-spirited and didn't worry much. HAAAAAAAA.

Some clarifications

Oh crap! Let me clarify a few things.

Our original doctor was not so supportive of my desire not to be induced, not to use Pitocin if at all possible. So we switched. The one I am going to now is a very hands-off-until-you-need-help type doctor. Exactly the kind I would have asked for in the first place. This has put me much more at ease. In other words, I'm no longer worried about being bullied in the delivery room and, whatever you decide to do/not do, I think this feeling of comfort is a must.

As for a midwife, we COULD hire one but since the laws in Alabama are just a TAD screwy sometimes (you realize we can't even import certain beers here because the alcohol content is too high? Yeah. Go get a fifth of cheap vodka just DON'T GET DRUNK ON BEER.), the birth would also have to be attended by a doctor so it sort of defeats the purpose.

I agree wholeheartedly (as many of you mentioned) that flexibility is key. I have no way of knowing exactly how things will happen, at least with a second or third child, you have an inkling. I think that is what is causing some of my anxiety over this, though - as my mother so lovingly pointed out - I'm not QUITE as obsessed over it as I sound. I just find the topic interesting and love to hear what other mothers (or anyone for that matter) have to say about it.

There are a bunch of comments on Facebook too, ones I wish I could import here since they have some awesome points/thoughts, but if you have a chance go read them.

Lastly, thanks to everyone for replies, emails, facebook comments - so much fun to read!

Deep breath

This is a topic I have been wanting to write about for quite some time but in the interest of not coming across all JUDGEY or OBNOXIOUS or SMUG or...whatever, I have hesitated. I like to think the decisions I make do not or at least should not reflect badly on the people around me who choose differently, but if I'm being completely honest - if anyone who is particularly opinionated is being completely honest - the decisions you make almost have to make an implicit judgment on the opposite decisions of others - right? So. Even though I give the politically correct, "This is what I believe, I have no judgements on others," and even though I believe that I believe that, I also make decisions in my life for a reason. On the other hand, there is that little, we really and truly are all different and so one person's slap is another person's love tap, one person's snack is another person's meal blah, blah, BLAH.

Should I just say it? This is a baby story. Or rather, a pregnancy story.

Even before I got pregnant, I had many, many different opinions running through my head on what is best for mom, what is best for baby during delivery. After hearing only 10 thousand different opinions on Pitocin, induction, epidurals, babies born after 45 hours of excrutiating labor, babies born who promptly flip off their mother for making the wrong decision, wonderful, hippie, flowery births AND ON AND ON, I came away from it all only knowing that I feel strongly about one thing and that is To Not Be Induced. I have a hard time believing that before Pitocin (a synthetic induction drug), babies simply FORGOT TO BE BORN. I know, I know, babies also died more often during child birth way back in the day but I tend to believe that was more because doctors or midwives milked the family cow, wiped their hands on a dirty apron and pulled a baby out than, say, a baby just sitting around in utero deciding it rather likes it in here and what's more? Free food! From a spout delivered directly to my belly!

That's REALLY the long and short of it. I mean, I could make it longer. MUUUUCH longer, but if I had to sythesize my argument into a short, sweet note, it would read the above few sentences. To finish the thought just a tad more, I hold the belief that induction leads to more pain which often leads to a necessary epidural which often leads to a labor slow down which often leads to a c-section.

Yes. I believe giving birth hurts, like hell. I haven't even done it yet and I'm already good and scared about the excrutiating pain most women like to describe to me. OH YOU'LL WANT AN EPIDURAL TRUST ME. I have heard...I can't say how many times. And that very well may be true. I have not ruled that out, I have only said I'd like to get as far as I can without intervention, in order to give my body time and space to do what it is supposed to do. I have also heard at least one woman say, though painful, without Pitocin, birth wasn't that bad. Please don't hit, I'm just the messenger.

And yes, yes. I also know I could have an emergency c-section, I could go waaay past my due date and decide on a c-section for other medical reasons. I may go into labor and then it could stop, inexplicably, for several hours. I get that there are outlying things that may happen that I cannot control. I do. Which is why I plan to give birth in a hospital where SHOULD something go wrong, I have all the comforts of modern medicine behind me. Still, another subject I probably shouldn't touch with a 10 foot pole, I believe it should remain legal for woman to give birth at home. In fact, Alabama has some odd laws on that one and pretty much forces women into hospitals. The Bible Belt just kills me sometimes.

My main goal though remains to not be induced.

In that vein, I looked into hiring a doula and was sitting on go until I ran the whole thing past Bud and he pretty much nixed the idea. There is a lot more to it than that, but in the end we are taking a natural child birth class and giving it a go on our own. What is that expression about fools and naivete and COMPLETE IDIOCY? Yeah, that one. That's us.

So. If you have an opinion, or a thought, or a PASSIONATE BELIEF THAT IT SHOULD ONLY BE DONE THIS WAY AND THIS WAY ONLY. Do tell.

Her majesty

The other day I stepped outside to call Bud in for dinner (I know, how cute, right? I might even invest in a cow bell.) and he walked up to the back porch to collapse and catch his breath for a minute before coming inside. I stood out there with him while we talked for a minute about the fence he is building in the back, until I heard a familiar scratching on the back door. Naturally it was Sadie, asking to be let out with us.

So I opened the door and motioned for her to come out. Which she did, for approximately 10 seconds and then ran back inside.

Which is when the scratching began again. So I again opened the door, this time a WEE frustrated and said, "Okay! Come out then!"

Which she did not.

I shut the door. She scratched again.

Eventually we figured out that no thank you, she did NOT want to come outside but would you please come inside and keep me company? That dog. THAT DOG.

Next week we talk about boundaries, of which I clearly have none because I did in fact follow her inside after her fifth or so insistence.

Do not come to my house

At the coffee shop, two women maybe around my age?

"I lah-ke dogs,"

"I mean, small dogs,"

"I mean, I lah-ke big dogs too. As long as they don't put their cold, wet noses on me. Anywhere. At all."

Also, I'd prefer for them not to look at me and also I generally prefer them dead. But still. I lah-ke dogs.

33 weeks

We just passed 33 weeks this weekend and I had the worst night's sleep of my life last night. I am not exaggerating. If this is indicative of what the next 7 or so weeks are going to be like then I find it a wonder that women ever have the energy to push a baby out. I'd be all, "Give me a C-section while I catch a nap!" Or maybe they call upon some long, lost reserve of adrenaline just so that they might sleep again. Aside from the discomfort of sleeping, the last week has been fairly comfortable and this weekend we managed a house warming party where I chirped, "August 9th!" I don't know how many times. I should have added, "Know any babysitters?" but thought that might be a little premature.

Picture 1. I now only look normal when fully clothed.

Picture 2. I know what you did last November and it wasn't sleep. 

Picture 3. This is my least favorite angle but no one can accuse me of not being honest. Maybe they can put this on a warning poster in high schools around the country. Except the casual gang symbol I am inadvertently making is probably not the best message. Or the accidental bedroom eyes. Seriously, you guys, these pictures are harder to take than it looks.

Picture 4. Just belly.                          

I'm thinking you were a blast in elementary music class

This morning I got up early to meet some friends at Patchouli Foods Whole Foods so we could mosey about the store, drink coffee and generally feel superior about our food buying choices. No matter that I had to drive an extra five miles to get here, I am SUCH A MINDFUL CONSUMER.

We eventually settled down into a booth with an outlet nearby because this computer is one thousand years old in technology years and has not kept a battery charge since aught five. Little did we know.

I began to grow suspicious when I saw, in the nearby corner, a bunch of small squares of carpet scattered on the floor and a steady stream of parents dragging and/or carrying small children towards the squares. UM. I think we might have a kids group here or something. It's cool, I like kids, I even have one inside of me right now that's how much I love them. TRUMP THAT.

What I don't love is the sing-along director who could not POSSIBLY be hoping the kids will actually sing with her what with the fact that she is literally screaming THE MOOOOORE WE GET TOGETHER, TOGETHER. Jesus, if I did like to sing I don't see how I could over all that wailing, lady. The poor kids looked shell-shocked and we eventually had to move to a booth closer to the registers in order to get away from maniacal WHO LOVES ME? DADDY LOVES ME! woman. I know I'm supposed to be slowly transitioning into someone who loves those little groups, right? But I just felt like throwing my hot coffee in her face. Well, warm coffee. Just something to stop the screaming.

7 or so weeks to go...SEVEN

This pregnancy has inexplicably taken a slight turn for the worse recently and I only say slight because I still know how lucky I am to not have had any major complications thus far. Or premature birth. Or any of the other bajillion things that can GO WRONG WHEN YOU ARE EXPECTING. But I'd still like a moment to feel sorry for myself since the empathy around my house comes mostly in this form:

"I don't fa-feel gooood."

"Yeah."

"I'm sooo big. It's soo much pressure. I can hardly roll over on the couch."

"Yeah."

"The remote. Is. Too. Far. (teary eyed)."

"Sorry bout that babe, I'd better go outside and...continue building the fence."

There's nothing major going on, at least I don't think, at least according to Google which informed me that the dizziness and nausea and hot flashes were pretty normal towards the end of pregnancy. It feels a little like that feeling I had? The one that lasted from early December to April? Yeah, that one. It's poked it's head back into my life except for less frequent and more of the I-think-I'm-going-to-faint variety. No wait, false alarm. Maybe just barf instead.

And then the jabbing in my belly which actually has me yelling, "OUCH!" periodically and that would be okay except for, say, in a coffee shop where it is not socially acceptable. I find myself gazing at NPs (non-pregnants) and being all, "Aaah, may I borrow your belly for a spot?" No? Too creepy? I WAS JUST ASKING. GAH.