Nothing Matters

I don’t often talk or write about my thoughts on parenting, because I don’t think my notions are especially hallmark or socially acceptable. In the beginning I blogged about my experiences, but I stopped when I realized parenthood isn’t a nostalgic journey that I feel compelled to capture in a beautiful scrapbook. Instead, for me, bringing up a child usually feels more like drowning and it takes all of my energy and concentration just to try to keep our heads above water. This weekend, however, I got a fleeting glimpse that my little swimmer is truly learning to tread the waters on his own.

You see, my son has a superpower. He is able to utterly ignore any and all instruction directed at him (at one point I actually had his hearing tested to verify this) yet, at the same time, internally process and store everything he’s ever heard in a secret place in his head, which exists behind a sign that I can only assume reads “No parents allowed.”

He is an unyielding perfectionist. However, this trait doesn’t manifest itself as a compulsion to get things done correctly or a drive to succeed. Instead, for him, it presents as a vortex of negativity and frustration… one I fear he may battle his entire life. If something he is focused on fails to meet his high expectations, he explodes in disappointment, often destroys the offending project in his rage and bitterly vows to never try again. This is maddening for all of us, and no amount of encouragement appears to make any helpful difference.

But this tough little boy of mine is also quite tender and sensitive. At times he craves quiet solitude. He really needs it. It is the only thing that seems to heal him and allows him to retreat into that secret hide-out in his head where he finally lets himself hear all the positive things we keep saying to him.

So, this brings me to my point: It seems to me that boredom is vital. Our culture can be outrageously over stimulating, and I believe it is important that, as parents, we let our children have idle time to build up forts where they can hide away to center themselves to slowly define who they really are.

I miss the days I grew up in, when children were allowed, even encouraged, to be outside playing freely with other kids all day long. It breaks my heart that I cannot give my boy that taste of freedom without running the risk of harsh judgment or the possibility of prosecution for child neglect. That doesn’t mean, though, that I should fill all his days with structured lessons, social dates, and otherwise enriching activities. It’s equally important that he be allowed plenty of time to just do nothing.

I’ve started making “nothing” a priority as often as I can. My son seems to relax the most when he feels wet sand in his hands. So I veto the trip to the pool and the playground and together we go exploring secret shores along creeks where he can simply sit in silence with the sand and just “be.” I watch him as he falls into a sort of trance and slips away to that secret garden of his.

He isn’t boisterously happy or busy having fun in those moments. Instead, he is calm and contemplative, and that is precisely my goal. I cannot build up this child of mine. He is miserable because he and the world he lives in are not perfect and the voice in his head can be viciously critical. I cannot change that for him. He must discover his own equilibrium, tame his own demons, forgive himself and find the courage to accept mistakes and even failure. Which brings me to my story…

The boy and I spent some time this weekend painting in an adult coloring book with watercolors. The book was intended as a gift to help me calm down, but, the truth is, I hate coloring and always have. I despise crayons – the way they feel, the way they smell, their fat crumply tips and their crappy, clumpy color distribution. The ordeal of having to choose, then commit to, color combinations stresses me out  and don’t even get me started on the aspect of staying within the lines!  So, I decided it would be more fun for us to paint.

I crack open the book and assign the picture on the left to my son while I begin to tackle the one on the right. About an hour later, he is all done and asking if he can help me. I almost lose my cool – of course NOT!  Quickly, I pull out another page from the book to keep him from touching mine. As I’m struggling with my own vicious inner perfectionist, my boy is pleasantly chatting with me. However,  I’m so focused, it takes me quite a while before I really listen... and then realize how profound his words are.

“Mommy, I’m making her skin blue. People aren’t really blue, but that’s okay, because I am the artist and that is what I want it to be. Artists don’t have to make things look like they really are, just however they want to. Mommy, it’s okay that you are not in the lines, because it’s your artwork. It doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful. People can make mistakes and it is still okay. That looks wonderful, because you tried your best and it shows. Don’t try too hard; just enjoy it!  You need my help, because you will not finish alone...you are too careful. And I am a good finisher.”

Somehow, just sitting there painting side by side, I was allowed into his secret fort for just a little while. And I learned that it is filled with wonderful things said by those who love him. His inner perfectionist may be deaf to these words, but my son HAS heard them, and hidden them away, and has no problem lovingly sharing them with others.

I cried.

I wonder if he will ever learn to listen to the words himself? Perhaps… if he is ever a father.

Poetry?

Poetry has moved to gemineye-musings.blogspot.com.

Nose Rock

Just as I was languishing under the crushing monotony of a toddler schedule, Wyatt decided to spice things up for me.

As I picked him up from daycare his teacher gave me an odd account of his day involving his refusal to eat an orange & picking his nose until it bled. Lovely. Then as he came out to greet me I asked him what was going on with his nose he said very frankly "Rock". I was worried he may have shoved a rock up his nose - but doubtful that my interpretation of toddler speak was exactly reliable.

Turns out he was clear & correct so tonight I was treated to a new adventure involving a trip down to Centennial urgent care and a $100 copay for a nasal extraction of a playground pebble. Not exactly my worst date ever... but not really the change of pace I was hoping for.

As an act of maternal revenge I've decided to start a collection of these treasures (which I hope remains small) and make him buy them back from me along with the 'rights to the stories' when he is older. Until then I get to tell them over and over and over again to anyone who will listen!

Failed... try again.

I stink at blogging, especially just about my kid. I feel like my life has become such a predictable routine it's boring. To me, to my family & especially the world at large. I've decided to get back to the basics and just use this as a general online diary of sorts. To share private thoughts in a public setting. So here goes : Confession #1 : Binder Clips I can't quite express my unnatural affection for these fabulous gems of the office supply realm. For some reason I collect them - at work - at home - in my car - even in my purse(s - all of them). It's as if I could be stranded on a desert island and somehow be able to fashion a pocket knife and a short wave radio out of nothing but a humble binder clip. I can always count on finding one in the pocket of my winter coat or in that little zipper pouch in my backpacks or my luggage. I've just never been able to bring myself to throw one away. The smaller and less practical the better, especially if they come in some fancy color. These precious hot pink, metallic silver or paisley beauties are reserved for my special collection. Like a ten year old boy treasuring his prized shooter marbles my colored binder clips are stashed in special places... too precious to use. They make me happy every time I find a reason to use one - and I find plenty. They close my chips, hang my calendar, prop on desks to display photos, mark my place in books & magazines, work as a money clip in a pinch and yes... organize stacks and STACKS of papers. When I get to use a paperclip at work it always makes me happy, like I'm wrapping something in a bow or placing a mint on the pillow. My binder clips mean this is organized, this is done, this is correct. They are my wax seal, my stamp of approval, my cherry on top.

Crunch

(6 months) ..belated post from ~ Oct 8th..

Fall is swift a mile high. The leaves fell in the front yard almost overnight. Wyatt loves LOVES loves being outside. I try to sit with him for as long as I can every day. The evenings are getting shorter so I have to race home to try and catch a few moments under our big trees in the front yard in the golden pile of crunchy foliage as the sun sets over the mountains. In typical Wyatt style he concentrates on picking leaves one at a time and holding them out for careful inspection as he twists them slowly. We lie on our backs and listen to the leaves falling and life is good.

Kung Fu Hands

(5 months) ...belated post from ~ Sept 12

This quiet boy of mine has a surprising amount of focus. He spends much of his day doing what we've come to call "kung fu hands".

This involves holding his hands out in front of himself while he concentrates on slowly wiggling and stretching each finger. The effect looks a bit like baby tai chi. It's rather fascinating for us all.

Still Blue

(5 months) ... belated post from ~ Sept 10th...

Fall came to Colorado right on Labor Day. It's hard to admit that summer is already over. It's also hard to tell who's changing faster - Wyatt or me.

He rolls over both ways and can sit on his own now, at least until he gets excited and starts bouncing... then he falls over and giggles. He squeals and babbles when he's happy and makes us bounce him in our laps until our arms are jelly. He drools like some alien creature - seriously I don't understand why he never seems to run out... it's as he's trying to leave his mark on the world by flooding it with saliva.

Tougher than you

(4 months)

The boy is tougher than we are. Seriously... he spends hours and hours every day pulling his feet up to his mouth and kicking the air. We lay on the ground next to him and try to mimic his actions, but none of us can keep it up for more than a few minutes - it's hard work. I'd be sore, exhausted & cranky by bedtime too!


Gramma Pat came to visit last week and it was wonderful. She was the first of Blaine's family to make it out and that really meant a lot to him. It was great to have her here and watch her hold the baby. Having another set of hands available was a big help too.


We bought a family pass to the science museum. My theory was that we would get more use out of it than the Botanical Gardens since bad weather (hot or cold) tends to keep me from exploring the gardens. I hope it proves to be a good investment, I was very surprised to find it absolutely packed on a Wednesday afternoon. I'm hoping the crowds die down a bit when school starts and the weather gets worse since I'd really love to get to explore the place when it's slow enough to actually get a parking spot.

Moving right along....

(3.5 months)

Another month has slipped by and so much has happened it's hard to know where to begin.

First of all... the boy continues to grow before out eyes. All of a sudden we turned around and realized he had sprouted EARS! Check these out!

He continues to be a pretty mellow little guy and is still fairly content to get packed up join us on our adventures. Wyatt has joined us at the pub to cheer on fighters in the UFC fight, helped us host our second lantern party successful lantern party, entertain out of town guests, explore ghost-towns in Pawnee, camp out for a week of costumes and fencing tournaments, picnic at the lake, and frolic at numerous backyard BBQs. All that and it's only July!

He's just over three months old now and is really beginning to get more active. He discovered his feet over the 4th of July and spent most of the camping trip fascinated with his new found appendages. Son now he's spent the last few weeks trying to figure out just exactly what they can do. He started with stamping his feet on the changing pad, then splashing in the bath and eventually even scooting around on his back. Blaine even woke up from a nap on the floor last week to discover that Wyatt had managed to scoot away inch by inch until he was about 5 feet away under one of the family room chairs happily cooing over his accomplishment.

Tummy time has been another story though. Up until yesterday Wyatt would only howl in frustration any time we set him on the ground tummy down. We tried setting out his favorite toys and laying down in front of him to try to convince him we aren't trying to smother him on the carpet, but to no avail. Well, last night when I set up him up for the evening torture session I started playing fetch with the dog and Wyatt was fascinated! He looked up for the first time from his tummy and was mesmerized. He watched us for a good fifteen minutes before he gave up and flopped down to cry. Then tonight I set him up and started playing the dog and again he was happy to watch for a while. Then he started kicking and scooting and before I knew it he had rolled himself over onto his back! I set him up again for a repeat performance and he happily obliged. The third time he even spiced things up with a 180 degree baby head-spin before the big finale. So much fun to see him knocking out milestones :)

Oh.. and I'm back at work now, but it's no big deal I live for my evenings and my weekends and they are more wonderful than they have ever been before!

End of Days

(week 10)

I have to apologize, I had every intention of posting weekly updates here. Just like I thought I'd have the baby book finished and be spending my entire maternity leave frolicking in the park with other new mommies. My return to work is now just 14 short days away and I'm beginning to get a bit worked up about it. I'm a little sad I wasted my time lounging on the couch for weeks on end, but when I remind myself that I was cuddling my new babe most of that time it doesn't seem quite so lame.

Wyatt doesn't seem to mind though. He's just concentrating on growing and figuring out how to chew on his fists without punching himself in the face. It's so fun to see him change. I swear he just sprouted big ears yesterday as if he reached up and tugged on them so hard they just ended up sticking out afterwards.

We made it through my birthday, our second annual solstice party and our first father's day. Now just our anniversary, the big camping trip at Battlemoore and a few fireworks to go. It's much easier to head back though knowing that Blaine will be the one taking care of Wyatt during the days. I'm sure it's not going to be easy for either one of them at first, but I couldn't be happier with the way everything has turned out.

Frantic Baby Search

Week 5

The first question that everyone asks me right now is "how is he sleeping" or "are you getting any rest". I cringe every time because I hate answering this question. Not because I'm a sleep deprived pile of nerves but because I don't want to jinx things or have an angry mob of frazzled parents hunt me down and pin my eyes open. The truth is that so far we have a sleepy head and we sleep fine *crosses fingers and knocks on wood*.

In fact, I get more rest now than I have in years. Now... that's not to say that I've gotten more than 5 hours at a time, but let's face it - I've been up every three hours to pee for about a year in a half now, so I have gotten pretty use to catching a full night sleep in small increments. Also there are days that I never change out of my PJs and that don't seem to 'start' until dinner time... but those are also the days that I'm usually napping the entire day when I'm not feeding or changing him. So, right now the problem isn't a lack of sleep, but too much which leaves me groggy, lethargic and unmotivated.

So... since this blog was originally about my dreams - you may ask what it is that I'm dreaming with all this lovely sleep I'm getting. Well, the truth is I don't remember any dreams right now except for one... the same one I have about twice a day.

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I've fallen asleep with the baby in my arms and I wake up in a panic because I've lost him!. I sit bolt upright certain that I've smothered him or he's fallen. I turn on the lights to search the covers and check the side of the bed or the floor by the couch only to realize (once again) that I put him down in his crib like I ALWAYS do and that the only thing that was ever in bed with me is my pillows.
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I've never fallen asleep holding him or even napped with him in bed, but for some reason that's always my dream. Well, that and occasionally I'll try to trick myself in my sleep and dream that I've already woken up and fed him, but that's what alarms are for. Unfortunately it's rare that I'm ever woken by the alarm because I'm usually up doing the frantic baby search just a few minutes before it ever has a chance to go off. Then I'm doing the new parent thing and getting up to check that he's still breathing since he's been unbelievably quiet for so long... which more often then not ends up waking him up and starting the next cycle. So, the majority of my sleep issues are my own paranoia rather than a fussy kid right now.

However, as a good friend recently advised me - the one thing you can count on in parenthood is that nothing lasts forever! So I'm sure there will be some point in the future when I look back on this post and laugh with deep dark circles under my eyes.

In preparation for that day... here is a page from my new favorite book by Adam Mansbach called "Go the Fuck to Sleep":



Baby Stuff:
Dunstan Baby Language:
    Ow = Tired    Neh = Hungry    Heh = Uncomfortable (hot/cold/wet)
    Eh = Need to burp    Eairh = Need to fart

Happiest Baby on the Block and the 5 "S's":
    Swaddle    Side    Shhh    Swing    Suck

Babywise PDF (Parent Dirrected Feeding):
    Time + Hunger cues + Parental Evaluation = Time to Eat
    Flexible schedule with fixed times for first & final feedings can get baby sleeping through the night fast!

Firsts:
Trip into mommies work, Dim Sum, Smiles (more predictable now when we play & smiling with whole face now)

Dehydrated

Weeks 2 - 4

So much to catch up on already! We lazed through our second week spending most of the time holding baby and catching up on bad TV. In week 3 our cord finally fell off and we got our first bath, we saw the doctor for a clogged tear duct and Aunt Amy came to visit. It was lovely. We got to celebrate her recent divorce and spend some quality sister time together. She helped us navigate our first bottle and Blaine gave me the evening out with the girls. I had no idea how much I missed scotch!

We had a wonderful time - well at least for most of us did. Blaine got sick the second day, in fact the evening that Amy left was one of the most terrifying nights of my life. I had to call some friends over at about midnight to take Blaine into the E.R. I don't know why these thing only happen in the dead of night, but he had gotten dehydrated to the point of shuddering in delirium. By the time he made it to the hospital his B.P. had dipped to 60/40 and they had to admit him and keep him for another two days to get him back to normal. I was so scared for him. When he did come home he still couldn't touch the baby for a while so I got a glimpse of what it might be like to juggle the little one all on my own. I can't imagine it. My heart goes out to single Moms everywhere.

Once Blaine was on the mend though we got to celebrate Wyatt's 1 month milestone with a trip out to the park for fencing practice then Chinese dinner with friends.

Next came mother's day and the sudden realization that my name is now "Mom" for the rest of my life... WEIRD! We spent a lovely afternoon with a houseful of friends for what was dubbed "Babies, Beer & BBQ" it was wonderful. At one point my friends were playing music as I sat in my rocker nursing, it made me so happy I cried a little. I love my house, my friends, my life. All is well.

Baby Stuff:
He coos now, it's so fun to hear the new noises he makes daily.
Gettin' wiggly! Managed to roll from his back to his side on his own.
Working on sleeping through the night, we are up to 5-6 hour stretches now.

Firsts: Bath, Bottle, Fencing Practice, Dinner out, BBQ

Bleary

The first two weeks...

I'm working on photos and the birth story now, but just wanted to get some quick thoughts up for now.

Wyatt Gray Loder was born April 5th 2011 at 5:11am - something about that must be lucky.
7lb 9oz 19in long - flawless skin with a dash of dark brown hair.
Born with his eyes wide open and cried a little right away then just lay there looking around after he was cleaned and swaddled.
The day he was born was sunny, wild and windy but the second day was calm and grey, and the rain put out the wild fires.

Labor : About 31 hours total... I got a full night's sleep then worked a full 8 hours on the couch Monday with a contraction counter in the corner of my screen the whole time. I know... I'm crazy - I just didn't know if it was the real deal of not.

Delivery : Couldn't have done it without my sister and husband there holding my hands (well technically my feet by the end). Only thing I would have changed is requesting hotter water in the tub and wireless baby monitoring so I didn't have to keep crawling back into bed. Everything was backwards... close contractions in early labor and far apart when it really counted. Took a quadruple dose of pitocin and two hours of pushing to get that kid out, but in the end we succeeded. It was the most insignificant agony I'll ever endure.

Recovery : Hospital was more like a hotel. Beautiful rooms, warm with soft lighting, good food, soft bed - at least for me. Wyatt was content in a clear bassinet between us and for two days the three of us just got cuddled and nursed and stared at each other in that little room.

Homecoming : Disorienting. First time I cried was when Blaine walked in front of me down the hall carrying the baby seat in one arm and a diaper bag over the other. He's a Dad now, and a wonderful one at that - it was overwhelming. Spent two days in a daze rearranging furniture and setting up the place to work for us. Wyatt made it easy, just sleeping quiet and content anywhere we set him and eating like a champ.

Breastfeeding : Sucks... literally in every way. Turns out you can do it all correct and it still hurts to feed him. Also hurts more not to. Can't figure out why nature didn't set this up to be more enjoyable it if it's so important. I've ended up with special order boobs and still on a mission to try and find bras to keep the ladies from stretching down to my toes. My pump is my best friend. Wyatt is better at this than me. On a brilliantly regular schedule already and willing to sleep through the night if I let him.

Sleep : Lucky so far. Wyatt likes to sleep even more than he likes to eat. Blaine is here and he's brilliant. We tag team everything from 'advanced' diapers to the four handed breast latch. It's amazing - I'm so lucky, don't know what I'd do without him. Sometimes he'll take all the 'gas laps' and diaper changes and let me nap, only waking me in bed with boppy and baby in hand so I can nurse and go back to sleep. Getting more rest now then I did while 9 months pregnant and working... so it's all relative.

Lifestyle : We've had visitors everyday. Our circle of friends here is close like a family and the 'petting zoo' has been open since we got home. It's wonderful. I like to hand off the baby and watch him charm everyone while we take a break and talk about something other than the consistency of poo. Been to the park twice to walk around the lake. I'm feeling great and so thankful I was able to avoid cesarian. Lost 25 pounds already (still another 30 to go :P) and I forgot how lovely it is to touch my toes, crack my back and walk two miles with ease. I LOVE not being pregnant.

Love : It's wonderful. Is it possible to be this happy? Even my pets seem to be affected by some sort of pheremonal high. I love my baby, my husband, my friends, my house, my dog, even my crappy cat. This is the best vacation I've ever been on and I'm so glad I get to share it with my son.

.. more later.. nap time now.

Pink Slip

The big news from this week was that Blaine lost his job. He called me Thursday afternoon to let me know that his company was closing the doors and shutting down. It was a pretty big deal since the gaming studio is part of Sony Online. They shut down 4 small studios in different states to consolidate the business in California.

I know it was a huge surprise and devastating to many of his coworkers... so is it terrible that I'm so happy?
Honestly it's the best thing that could have happened for us and the timing is absolutely perfect!

The job had him working EVERY weekend last year. He literally had 4 weekends off in 2010 and there were many weeknights he'd stay past 1am or not be able to come home at all. It was grueling! I missed him so much, but I didn't want to encourage him to quit... but I was getting nervous since I couldn't imagine how we were going to juggle a baby into that schedule.

We just kept our heads down, held our breath and somehow the problem just solved itself. That damned pink slip was the best present we've received yet.

He received a decent severance and will be able to collect unemployment while staying home with me for my entire maternity leave. I'm so excited he's going to be here to help and to enjoy his son during these first few months. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm not worried. I'm really confident everything is going to work out and we'll be fine.

He's so happy and calm now. He's been puttering around the house just tidying up, stocking the freezers, relaxing and just enjoying these last few days of quiet waiting. It's pure bliss! I'm so happy and calm now.

Had a wonderful day yesterday. Did a photo shoot of my gorgeous co-worker in the morning then spent the afternoon with friends who were visiting to deliver an incredible handmade preset (more on that later... deserves it's own post). Then took time out to hit the nail salon with my sister and my friend Sarah to get a mani/pedi (first one I've ever had) before treating them to dessert at yogurt land. Topped it all off with an evening spent listening to good friends swap stories well into the night while Bob played the guitar and I retouched photos and we giggled about my pudgy pink toes.

PERFECT.

More belly shots

(week 39)
I really wish I had more models doing these for me.

Its been really fun, but it's so hard to get the lighting right when I'm the model and I get a little tired of looking at so many shots of myself.

Again... beware - I'm not shy.

Countdown

(week 39)

Cruising right along! We are all prepped now and things seems to be progressing right on time.

Baby is bouncing around like a little gymnast and has become my main source of evening entertainment. There just aren't many opportunities in life to look down and watch your belly roll and bulge with the motion of an on-board alien. Pretty intense.

I was surprised to get the report from my doctor this morning that I'm dilated 1cm. It's not much and doesn't really mean anything exciting at this point, but I didn't expect I'd dilate at all before labor. It's reassuring to learn that all the wild Braxton Hicks I've been feeling are actually somewhat productive.

I'll take pictures again this week... still don't feel like I look any different, but Blaine can't look at me without his eyes bulging wide and getting a goofy grin on his face, so perhaps the belly is worth sharing again :)

Butthead

(Week 37)

I've been saying since Thanksgiving that this little guy tap is dancing on my cervix and while a wiggles and wobbles a bit, he has seemed to be anything but head down. I asked our birthing instructor what exercises and positions I should try to encourage him to turn when I found out that he should be settling head down about week 30. I even talked to two of my doctors about it and asked if they could tell where his head was. One half-heartedly probed my belly at 32 weeks and said, "It's hard to say, he could be head up but he's just going to move around anyway". At 34 weeks I saw a different doctor in the practice who probed by belly unprompted and stated "I could be wrong, but I think he may be breech, let's order an ultrasound for your next appointment".

So I brought Blaine with me to the 36wk appointment because I was convinced we were breech and figured we'd need to talk to the doctor about our options. Before the ultrasound I asked the doctor to feel around and guess what was what since we'd been playing the guessing game for weeks. She gets a puzzled look on her face and says "I'm usually really good at this, but in this case it's really hard to tell. It's almost like your baby has two butts. -silly grin- Do you have names picked out yet, because Butthead might work." I lost it in a fit a giggles, Blaine became very quiet and didn't really talk the rest of the visit. Apparently her lack of professionalism didn't sit well with him.

Turned out I was wrong about my guesses on which bits were what, but I was right about the fact that we were indeed breech. Our options were to schedule a C-section at 39 weeks and wait and see if he turned by then, or attempt an external version procedure to try to turn the baby at 37 weeks which could result in an emergency C-section, but if successful could allow us to carry to full term and attempt a natural birth.

Seeing as how the biggest risk seemed to an early C-section which was also to outcome if we didn't do anything I opted to try the version.

The next 7 days were just a blur. We went on a whirlwind shopping spree trying to ensure we had all the necessary essentials just in case we were bringing home baby in a week. We also did our best to wrap things up at work as much as possible. It was stressful and exhausting, but in the end I had the bags all packed and the nursery.. well... at least stocked with diapers before we headed to the hospital.

(I'm opting to omit my two-headed baby dream, but you can imagine it was a bit disturbing)

Blaine was nervous and worried for me. He'd talked to his coworkers and the three that had gone through this procedure all ended giving birth that day and said it was painful and they'd never attempt it again. Maybe I was being naive, but I just wasn't worried. I figured that any pain couldn't be worse than labor and delivery and if we delivered that day, well that just meant I didn't have to endure any more the oh so comfortable ninth month. I just didn't see any horrific down side.

Thursday March 17th (St. Patrick's Day) : We checked into the maternity ward all decked out in green and grinning ear to ear. I got strapped with monitors to check the baby for about an hour and hooked up to an I.V. then my doctor showed up. She checked everything out on the ultrasound, lubed up my belly and got ready to start.

I grabbed her hands, looked her straight in the eye and said "Now, your good at this right?". She was a bit taken aback, but then smiled and reassured me that she was, although she warned us that baby may be stubborn and my pain threshold could be limiting as well. I made her promise me not to be a hero and force anything that could hurt the baby then I popped in my ear buds and lay back to relax with Graceland as my soundtrack.

Blaine held my hand and watched as the doctor kneaded by belly like pizza dough until she had hold of baby's head and butt then started massaging him around in a circle. It was uncomfortable but I was able to breathe through it. Unfortunately baby jut wasn't having any of it. She turned him back to where he was and got set to try again clockwise. I asked for extra lube and the she dove in again. This time she got him half way then had the nurse hold him in place while she took a break reset her grip and started again. I won't lie - it was intense. We started shouting at baby "come on little bugger" "you can do it" "almost there baby". That got us around the corner then he just slipped into place. My doctor raised a hand and I gave her slimy hand a high five.

It had hurt, but no worse than a brutal back massage or a bad case of the stomach flu and it only lasted a few minutes. More importantly IT WORKED! The toughest part was the side effects from the meds they gave me to relax the uterus to keep me from having contractions. That stuff had me shaking like a leaf. It had been extra hard trying to relax with my lips shivering and teeth chattering, but that wore off in about an hour and as I felt better baby started wiggling up a storm and his heart rate improved with mine.

We were released with instructions to count his movements closely and watch for signs of early labor then we headed out to a pub and met a big pile of friends to celebrate the rest of St. Pats.

Now, a few days later I'm happy to say that I really feel much better, and best of all I CAN WALK AGAIN! Apparently he had been sitting on my pelvis at some awkward angle and that's what had been causing the painful waddling limp I'd been preforming for about 6 weeks. The only down side, is now that he seems to fit a bit better, he's taking full advantage and stretching his limbs, and wiggling all his little fingers and toes all the time. It's reassuring, but it's completely distracting and occasionally exhausting. I'm having trouble focusing on anything beyond my dancing belly.

But, it won't be long now! Only two weeks to my due date so no matter what happens now, this part should all be over within a month. Then the world gives me full permission to focus 100% on this little guy for at least 3 months.

Zoom Zoom

(Weeks 34-36)

Sorry for the lack of postings these last few weeks, apparently being a grown-up means being busy! I have no idea what happened to the last 3 weeks!

Where do I start...

These days everyone watching me waddle around with my silly little limp and fixed grimace seem quick to sympathize and offer words of encouragement like "not long now" or "almost there".
I always get the same questions in the elevator...
"How are you feeling?" "When are you due again?" "Are you sleeping alright."

I've learned not to answer these honestly and started making a game out of how to respond. Often I just smile with a weary frozen grin that says... "I'll spare you the details" but other times it's more just fun to be sarcastic like "Why do you ask? Damn... I knew this dress made me look pregnant!" or "I've still got more than 8 months to go - my Doctor thinks I might set a record".

The truth is I'm still doing as well as can be expected and I'm lucky enough to be sleeping fine. The toughest thing (besides dragging myself out of bed for my third pee of the night) has been work. I got saddled with a double load when a coworker left on medical leave and have been stuck working long hours ever since. It's draining and has left little time for fun things like blogging or practical things like laundry or taxes... but the blessing is it is making this time pass quickly.

In the past three weeks I've managed to assemble 2 strollers, a bookshelf, and convertible chair. I've also called in the troops and gotten help fixing the electrical issues, painting the nursery (green & orange), as well as generally cleaning house and organizing to make as much space as possible.

It's been a whirlwind!

All Grown Up

(Week 32)

I once thought achieving "grown-up" status was as simple as moving out and signing your first rental agreement. I always looked forward to my 30th birthday because I imagined that by then I would have acquired grace and poise. When it came to parenthood, I assumed all those parents around me were just more mature and put together than me. Turns out I was wrong. They are just people with kids and sometimes they are just as big a kid themselves.

I've been in a few situations now when I'm in a public place with crying babies and someone will look me dead in the eye and say "Are you ready for that"?

Truth is, I'm not "ready" and I'm never gonna be, but I'll adapt, I'll cope and I'll get by just fine.

We just finished a birthing class at the hospital and I found it amusing that I was able to come to grips with my fears of labor and delivery pretty easily, but when they briefly covered infant care I literally broke out in a cold sweat. When everyone was watching the videos of the newborn homecomings with excitement and giddiness I was starting to employ some of our new pain management techniques to go to my 'happy place' and avoid the 'fear cycle'.

It will be fine, I know I'll figure it out, but there is no preparing for this bit, it's just diving in a doing.

I don't have baby dreams.

Instead I still have high octane adventure dreams of complex plots in exotic lands, but no baby dreams. I think it's just because I have zero experience to draw from. I have NO idea what to expect and no expectations for what it may be like, but I do seem to be preparing myself for a fast paced adventure filled with pitfalls and split second decisions.

Maybe I should add a fedora and bullwhip to my baby registry, too bad no one would get the joke but me... and maybe you now :)

So, for now I've set aside the library of baby books and decided to focus on what I can do to cater to my nesting instinct. For me apparently this means investing in wood furniture and a Mazda CX9. I'm really excited! I may not know how to burp this kid, but I'm confident he'll have a nice dresser that should last a lifetime, a TV center that he can't get into, and a car big enough to hold him, our dog, and all of our camping gear!

This all calms me by making me feel a bit more grown-up and prepared even though it really is just a state of mind.

I have the dumb

(week 31)



For months people have been making jokes about 'pregnesia' and 'baby brain' and I've just laughed because forgetfulness and lack of attention are just a way of life for me. Sure, it's nice to have an excuse why I've lost my keys, misplaced my wallet, forgotten my phone or left my purse behind - but that's just me on a good day. On a bad day I misplace my snowboard, leave my camera on a rock, completely lose my car and forget where I left my dog.

What has been regrettably obvious for weeks though is my new talent for dropping things. It's really a cruel side effect. Seems as though right when bending over to pick things up became virtually impossible, I began dropping just about everything I touched. Ir's not just drop either, it's more like things launch out of my hand as if there is some sort of eject button hidden in my palm.

I woke up a few days ago with the alarm clock blaring and launched it off the nightstand when I tried to shut it off, then dropped the glass of water as I reached out to take a sip, pulled the lamp over when I tried to turn it on and managed to knock over all the books as I tried to get up to clean up the mess. This is typical! I was always a bit clumsy and absent minded but now I'm a slapstick comedy routine.

I thought all this was bad enough, but over the last few days - it happened... the baby ate my brain!

I suddenly lost all my energy, started napping again and suddenly got DUMB!

I really didn't think I could get any worse, but I DID! It's completely mortifying. At work I'm scheduling meetings for things we did the day before and accusing people of neglecting to loop me in on things we just met about. I feel like an Alzheimer's patient roaming the halls and I'm a friggin Project Manager!!! Everyone is looking to me to tell them what to do next and I don't know what day it is or what what we just did!!!

Ugh.

I have the dumb and it is mighty!

Luckily I have spent years developing systems to allow me to thrive in my forgetfulness. So, I already have tools in place to help me function. Unfortunately I seem to have lost the ability to seem collected and put together in front of coworkers and strangers. Now the checklists, sticky notes, alerts and alarms that use to help me save face are just enough to keep me from failing completely as I blunder along.

*sigh*

Progress

We got about 6 inches of snow today so I spent the day inside cuddling with my hubby & clearing out the guest room to begin nursery preparations. We've begun to shop for furniture and it's beginning to take shape.

Took a few new photos today because I've been getting more comments and stares lately.
I didn't think I had gotten much bigger... but it seems I was wrong :)

(week 27)


(week 20)


(week 13)

No news is good news

(week 27)

Made it through the holidays in fair shape and have a library worth of books to show for it. We must have brought home at least 30lbs in reading materials alone. It's amazing how quickly I'm going through all of them though, I'm absorbing as much information about labor and infant care as I can I it's beginning to help. Still not looking forward to any of it, but reaching a point where I'm more calm and it doesn't seems so scary and impossible. It's not going to be easy, but I'm confident we'll get past it and it will be worth the effort.

This is a HUGE step.

We even got the courage up to walk into a Babies R Us to explore the baby gear first hand. It was a bit disappointing in some respects since the quality of the products and the level of service both left much to be desire... but it was still really helpful. We'll be buying most of the gear online, through craigslist, or at consignment events so we wanted to have an idea of what we liked and what we were really looking for.

We still don't have a formal registry set up, but we are getting much closer.

90 days left to go. It's starting to seem very close now, and we are both beginning to get excited :)

Dispatch reinforcements!

Support needed immediately!
(week 25)



Okay... I'm obviously in a goofy mood but seriously... I'm buying a bra every two weeks - this is just silly.

Holy Charley Horse

Things are still going well. I managed to only plump up a slight bit over the Thanksgiving holiday which took some willpower and effort on my part. Well, that and four solid days of walking around LA probably helped a bit too.

Still feeling pretty good - even impressing my coworkers with my energy and willingness to 'hang tough' at the late night holiday parties. I'll admit it's a very different perspective to be the sober one in the crowd, but it's been fun none-the-less and I feel good right now, so I'm eager to take advantage of all the social activities I can fit into my calendar. I have a feeling that I may be in for some tougher times in the months to come.

As a bit of foreshadowing I'm beginning to ache at the end of the day as my hips and knees soften up from the hormones and my back always feels like it needs to crack, but I don't have enough range of motion to pop it anymore. The toughest part so far has been the heartburn and the vicious charley horse cramps that wake me up from a dead sleep.

Got me wondering the other day about how odd that term "charley horse" really is, so I did a little research and what I found out is... no one seems to really know the origin. It's an American colloquialism that seems to be rooted in baseball, but that's about all the research seems to agree on. Here are some of the more common theories which I found pretty amusing :

- A lame horse named Charley pulled the roller on the Chicago White Sox ballpark in the 1890s. That's the most commonly repeated version but appears to be false because the phrase appears to be older than the horse.

- Policemen in 17th century England were supposed to be called Charleys and the term migrated to America. The amount of walking the police were required to do gave them aching legs. This seems fanciful. I can't confirm the use of the term Charleys for police in England or America and there seems nothing to explain the link with baseball.

- The pitcher Charley Radbourne was nicknamed Old Hoss. He got cramp during a baseball game in the 1880s. After that baseball players refered to leg cramps as "Charley Hoss". This at least is plausible and has no obvious fault to rule it out, but that's not enough to prove it is the origin.

Baby Enough

(Week 23)

Okay... I suck at interior decorating and I'm even worse at setting up a nursery. I still can't bring myself to dive in and start the gear shopping. The idea of Babies R Us gives me hives and online shopping is slow and tedious. I just want to walk in somewhere and walk out an hour later with everything I need - is that even possible?

I'm having trouble getting in the mood and my baby phobias make it hard to sort through swatches of pastel choo choo trains and tweety birds, so I'm trying to focus on artwork first for inspiration. I've latched on to a few that border on creepy, so I'm going to ask for some outside opinions.

Are any of these 'baby enough'?