Baby Bouteneff

18 weeks: The battle of the sex of the baby...

2012-01-15T14:57:00.000-05:00

Mike takes the day off of work, and his parents babysit so we can attend the "big ultrasound" (as people tend to call it) together. On the car ride to the hospital, we giddily talk about the ideas that make us nervous, anxious or excited as we contemplate having our first girl, or having our second boy.

Having a girl would be cool. It would be fun to have one child of each sex, perhaps experience stereotypical girlie things (tea parties, dance classes, spa days, dresses), have long talks and relive that giddiness of teenage girls, have mother/daughter bonding and outings, have father/daughter bonding and outings, see a daughter through a wedding, her pregnancy, her children, see what features a little girl would take on from me or from Mike, be able to shape a strong awesome woman...There are a lot of things we could look forward to, we agree.

But we also recognize that while "they" say girls are easier as babies and children, they often cause more stress as teenagers. Girls fight with their moms (and dads). At least, I did. And a lot of other girls do. They want their independence, which is natural, but it's also natural for parents to be, let's face it, more overprotective of their daughters. And with good reason. Of course it's not fair, but the sad truth is that the world outside of us is not fair either, and girls and women are going to face that unfairness--and yes, also face that added danger that parents are going to worry about. And girls are going to think it's stupid and paranoid, and revolt against it (at least I did). Boys fight too, of course. But there is just something about the way a girl chooses her words...I know many-a-mom who has said she is relieved when she finds out she's having a boy because she's terrified of dealing with a daughter. Even the powerful and cool Avery on 30 Rock who has been excited and collected at the idea of having a boy ("Every woman my boy dates will get compared to me. And they WILL be found wanting."), is terrified when she learns the sonogram was read wrong, and she'll indeed be having a "damn girl!"

And let's not forget the mean girls, designer label pressure (we do live in Westchester County after all), and drama. Some studies have even indicated a correlation between having one girl (versus having one boy) and a higher divorce rate, adding that with each additional girl, the rate goes up by 9%. Of course, this older "gender-preference" based studies (i.e. men are more invested in having boys, so they help out more yielding a happier marriage, hence divorce rate is lower for having boys) has also been questioned/debunked by other studies. And while a more recent study confirms this higher rate amongst families with daughters, they aren't postulating that stress from girls causes divorce. Rather, they hypothesize that the bond is so special between a mother and daughter, that the daughter gives her mom the emotional strength to leave an unhappy or abusive marriage (75% of divorces are filed by the mother), and set a better example for her daughter of how one should be loved. Furthermore, there has been a study indicating that in families where there is at least one girl, the other siblings have a lower chance of depression (the theory being that girls simply talk to their siblings more, and by talking--about anything at all--it helps).

Okay, so things to be excited about, things to be nervous about, things to appreciate in having a daughter. Bottom line, even the things to be anxious about are surmountable, and in the end, a girl offers amazing emotional support.

And having another boy would also be cool. Mike could start forming his all-male soccer team, he'd have his little squadron of boys to look up to him, and brothers would have a special bond themselves. As a mom, I'll have my boys to look out for me. Every mom of boys I know says, "Boys love their moms!" Since I was a teenager, I've always thought moms of all-boys just seem, I don't know, sort of cool. I would be the only girl in the household, so there could be perks to that. And of course there are the practical positives of having two boys: we don't need to buy new clothes, they may like similar toys, sibling discounts if they both take similar classes, they could share a bedroom for any number of years. And while I wouldn't be shaping an awesome girl, I would have the chance to shape two awesome boys into respectful, interesting, strong men.

But yes, we would miss out on all those girl-related experiences, from childhood to adulthood, and I'd be lying if I said the thought of that didn't make me just a little bit wistful. While being the only female presence in a household might make one feel special, it might also make a mom feel left out of certain activities or interests. I like the idea of the emotional support of a daughter, that chattiness and honesty of emotion.

Then again...we already have one boy and think he is the most amazing little man or woman we know. And even at 2 1/2, he already does break gender stereotypes by being surprisingly emotionally aware and extraordinarily verbal and expressive. If talking helps prevent depression, our boy has that covered. There is never a moment of silence in our house or car. And he is attentive to me already, following up on previous conversations to see if I have solved my problems, checking in to make sure my stomach feels better if it's been upset (even Mike forgets to do this), telling me to watch out for cars, to be careful not to squish the baby, saying I look pretty, that he likes my dresses, my "purty necklace", and showering me with dozens of "I love you!"s a day, from quiet whispers, to screaming it from across the room at his children's gym. He is amazing, and his existence is enough to get Mike and me excited at the idea of two boys.

So. That is the battle of the sex of the baby...My readers apparently are as divided as we are, as the polls are closing at 50% girl, 50% boy. Bottom line--as a friend points out to me--our baby is the baby we are meant to have. God has given us this baby and this baby is nothing other than a blessing, and we know our lives will be enriched because of this baby. Boy or girl. This is the baby that we are meant to have. And once we have our girl with our boy, or we have our two boys, that will be our family and we won't be able to imagine life any other way.

So. We're now at the hospital. I'm lying on the bed, goo on my belly as the sonographer records measurements, clicking and pointing on the computer.

"You said you want to find out the sex, right?" The sonographer asks.

"Yes, definitely!"

We are nervous. Here it is. The baby is healthy; all measures up perfectly. That's a relief. Now onto satiating our curiosity...

She tells us.

I have tears in my eyes. Tears of joy. I picture us as a family. I am so happy. So happy to know something more about our precious little baby. When this flood of joy rushes over me, I know I would have been thrilled, boy or girl. But now I can visualize a bit of our family us in 5 months, in 5 years, in 15 years.

It's going to be me and my boys! We are having a boy! We are having the healthy, strong, very loved little baby that we were meant to have.

18 weeks pregnant: 4th OB appointment

2012-01-13T23:59:00.082-05:00

The day finally arrives when we attend our "big anatomy screening." Of course, Stamford Hospital likes to make its patients wait for appointments so 90 minutes after arriving, we finally are set up with the sonographer. She is fast; they are clearly behind in their schedule, but Mike and I are still able to bask in the beauty of our little baby on the screen. Everything is healthy. Our baby is healthy, average in a good way, and we even get to see some 3-D images when the doctor (who takes more time with us than the sonographer does) visits us. I can see why some parents pay to go to companies who simply show ultrasounds of their babies. It is amazing to see such detail--the eyes, the nose, the fingers.

After we finish with my ultrasound, we race to my OB appointment (my doctor kindly suggests I schedule his appointment right after the hospital visit to save us an extra trip in to CT). The appointment seems uneventful and smooth until I mention I've been having a lot of braxton hicks contractions. My OB is surprised. "Are you sure you're not having round ligament pain?" "Yes, I'm sure. I mean, I have that too, and I know the difference. This feels like nothing else. I can feel my uterus tightening too. I also sometimes feel a lot of pressure very low down, which I didn't feel in my first pregnancy until toward the end." I had recently looked up online and read that while most women feel braxton hicks contractions starting around 28 weeks, it's possible to feel them as early as the second month of pregnancy. I haven't been worried that sometimes I feel them every few minutes for perhaps an hour while I'm working on the computer. Of course, I knew I should mention this information (my friend recently told me of a girl she knew who was experiencing that and was put on bed rest). But I hadn't been worried.

But now my OB says it's best to check everything out, to make sure my cervix is still doing what its supposed to (or, not doing what it's not supposed to). He tells me he's 90% sure everything is fine, and I ask what would happen if everything is not fine. "You might need a stitch to the cervix and be put on bed rest for a few months." I scowl at this notion. "But let's check it out right now, and then we can all sleep well this weekend. It's probably fine."

I don't know what my OB is really thinking--he conveys the emotions of a man who is 90% sure everything is just fine. And honestly, I feel everything is fine as well.

And so, as he does the exam and ultrasound, we receive the anti-climactic and very welcome news that, yes, everything is, indeed, fine. He assumes I am just very in touch with my body and am feeling things very early this pregnancy. I agree. I have been feeling the baby moving since 11 weeks or so (yes, strange, and I don't tell my OB I was feeling the baby that early, because it sounds so crazy, but I swear I have been feeling our baby for that long. Once you know what it feels like when a baby moves inside of you, it really is, to me at least, like nothing else you ever experience.).

I ask him a few more questions, and he smiles saying, "Come on, ask me some hard ones." But alas. Let's continue with another uneventful pregnancy.

After the appointment, Mike and I go out to a nice restaurant, walking through tiny snowflakes, and enjoy another afternoon date, enjoying the food, the company, the idea that we now know the sex of our baby, and perusing through the string of 3-D images from the ultrasound.

17 Weeks Pregnant: The Old Wives' Tales predict the sex of the baby...or, not...

2012-01-10T21:30:00.003-05:00

There has never been any doubt that Mike and I would find out the sex of our baby. We did for our first, loved knowing, and can't imagine choosing to keep that information a surprise from ourselves the second time around. Does anyone find out for the first and then not for the second? I know plenty of people who did not find out their baby's sex in advance for their first child, and did for their subsequent children, but I have never heard of it happening the other way around. If you chose to keep the second a secret, but not the first, I'm curious, what led to that decision?

For us, the experience finding out the baby's sex at 20 weeks was exhilarating. It was that one awesome present you get to open Christmas Eve, getting you even more excited for the rest of the fun to come on Christmas Day. It helped me to feel more connected to our baby, got us started on our imaginative thinking for our family, and of course, helped in numerous practical ways.

This time around, we are just as excited. It's almost as though we can receive a glimpse of who our baby is, but safe and cozy in the womb (so we don't even have to get up 10 times in the middle of the night to get a glimpse of our baby!).

So who is this baby? Or "what" is this baby, as the question typically goes? The masses tend to say girl. I have had more morning sickness this time around, although the worst was over by 8 weeks, so compared to most, I'd still say I had it pretty easy. I feel different this time around, that is true. I have had heartburn, my belly is showing sooner. I've felt braxton hicks contractions for weeks already now. I didn't have any of these experiences the first time around (but then, it took posting in this blog to make me realize, based on comments, that I was actually having braxton hicks contractions during pregnancy #1!). But I honestly attribute most of these differences to simply a second pregnancy. I still feel pretty similar in most ways.

When I asked my toddler a month or two ago if he thought the baby would be a boy or a girl, he said, "Hm...No, it's just a baby. Yeah. Just a baby." That's my sense too, D. Just a baby.

But, because guessing is so much fun, and (gulp), I only have a few days before we find out the sex (Jan 13 is less than 3 days away!), let's wade through the symptoms, facts and numbers, and cast our votes! And silly as they are, guessing strategies are often pretty interesting. I mean, even the gas station attendant on Halstead Ave today told me that if you conceive during the day, it's a boy, and if you conceive at night, it's a girl. Hm...not really helpful in our case, but interesting. So, some Old Wives' Tales that I used in my first pregnancy will be helping us out...I apologize for not having any proper belly shots to show you, but this is the most recent picture of me (from this weekend, Russian Christmas), so it will have to suffice, in case you need a little face-time to get your guessing-game on. Here we go!

1) How you are showing:
-Belly only--Boy
-All over (or a full face)--Girl
Outcome: Most of the baby is still limited to my belly, but my belly is not as firm as before, nor as low as before. It's as though the entire basketball outline of my belly has already been drawn, just needing to be filled in. So I'm less sure what to write for this one. We'll say boy.
=BOY

2) Fetal Heartbeat:
-Under 140--Boy
-Over 140--Girl
This is a good one, so I wish I knew exactly, but I honestly don't remember the heartbeat rate. I think it was right around 140 at some point. So again, not really an easy one to say. I would be entirely guessing on this one, so I will have to leave blank the result for this old wives' tale.
=UNKNOWN

3) Sweet or Sour/Salty Cravings:
-Crave sweet things--Girl
-Crave sour/salty things--Boy
Outcome: Pretty mixed here, but since we've just passed Christmas, and we do have a lot of yummy cookies around, I will opt for sweet.
=GIRL

4) Picking up a key:
-Pick it up at the round end--Boy
-Pick it up at the thin end--Girl
Outcome: I picked it at the round end. Can't even imagine picking it up at the thin end, but I think this is the most common way to pick up a key--pregnant with a baby boy or not.
=BOY

5) Mother's intuition:
-If the pregnant mother thinks she's having a boy--Boy
-If the pregnant mother thinks she's having a girl--Girl
Outcome: I really am not thinking strongly either way, but if I had to choose, I'd say girl. Note that I said the same thing with my first pregnancy and I was not right.
=GIRL
(btw--this is the most accurate, as mothers guess correctly 71% of the time!)

6) Pendulum swing:
-If a pendulum over the woman's head swings in a back and forth motion-Boy
-If it swings in a circular motion--Girl
Outcome: It swung side to side with my first pregnancy, and I was actually expecting the same result this time. I sort of assumed that it is just always more apt to swing side to side. This time, it remained pretty still for a moment, then Mike laughed, it swung side to side briefly, but quickly "corrected" itself and swung in a circular motion. So...
=GIRL

7) Chinese Zodiac Sex Predictor:
Compare the number of the month you conceived with the age you were when you conceived.
-If both numbers are even or both are odd--Boy
-If one is odd and the other even--Girl
Outcome: Conceived in month 9, was 34 years old, so one odd, one even.
=GIRL
This has tended to be the most reliable of these 50/50 tests. In doing this test with my family a few years ago, it was accurate for about 10 people for 100% of the time. Of course, since then, I've known plenty of people it has not been accurate for, but whenever I am told to guess the sex of a friend's baby, I always go with this system, and it does tend to be more true than anything else.

8) Online "Boy or Girl" quiz:
I took a quiz which asked a variety of questions having to do with conception, how the baby is showing etc. that resulted in telling me 1) It could be a boy and 2) Unsure. Hm. Well, that was enlightening.

I took another test which had more "old wives' tale" type questions, such as the direction my pillow faces (although I guessed on that. And what angle of your pillow is it talking about?), and whether or not I eat the heel of a loaf of bread. It told me:
"Your score is 50%. Congratulations! According to the Old Wives it's a boy!"
Okay, I appreciate the congratulations, and that I got 50% of the questions...um...right? I'm not sure what the 50% is referring to...If it is just saying 50% boy, 50% girl, then it shouldn't tell me I'm having a boy. Regardless, since it appeared to say "boy" in this test, and the first test was unknown or a boy, I guess I will put these quizzes together and lean toward the shaky outcome of-
=BOY

So to tally it all up, we have 1 unknown, 3 for boy, and 4 for girl. Those are the "facts." Now you can make an informed decision when you vote. :)

12 weeks Pregnant: Sequential Screening

2011-12-02T23:59:00.001-05:00

I have been debating whether or not to participate in the Sequential Screening process for this pregnancy. Sequential Screening offers a non-invasive method (ultrasound and bloodwork from the mom) to screen for Down Syndrome, Trisomy 18 and Open Neural Tube Defects. It cannot tell us whether the baby has any of these syndromes (like amnio or CVS which can tell with great accuracy, but also are more invasive, and the procedures carry their own risks), but it can tell us the likelihood that the baby may have one of the syndromes. So, in the end, the Genetics Counselor can inform you that your baby has a 1 in 10 chance of having, say, Down Syndrome, or a 1 in 1000 chance or a 1 in 10,000 chance. But still, they are just chances. A 1 in 10 chance still means that 9 times out of 10, your baby will not carry the extra chromosome. And a 1 in 10,000 chance still means that 1 baby out of 10,000 will still have the syndrome.

Still, the majority of women opt for having these tests done. With my first pregnancy, I decided to keep my ultrasounds to a minimum, and since I felt knowing this statistic was not going to change the outcome of my pregnancy (I wasn't going to have an abortion; I probably wasn't even going to have an amnio or cvs if my stats came back telling me I was in the higher risk category), I opted to not have the screening done.

This second pregnancy, I have been debating having the tests done for the same reasons I did during my first pregnancy. Other than probably peace of mind, I couldn't think of a great reason to have the test done. And since I felt relatively peaceful in my mind anyway, it didn't seem necessary. But when someone we know had a beautiful baby girl who was born with Down Syndrome (and they did not know in advance), I decided, perhaps I would like to have an idea of whether we had a greater or lower chance of having a baby with DS or not. Again, it would not affect the outcome of my pregnancy, but maybe it would give me greater peace of mind, or maybe it would enable me to start mentally and logistically preparing for having a child with DS.

So I call up my OB's office and inform them that I have decided to have the Sequential Screening after all. Luckily, the hospital quickly accommodates me, and my sonogram is scheduled for the end of that week.

Since we don't have babysitting, Mike takes the morning off to watch our toddler, and I attend our first "big hospital" ultrasound alone. As I sit in the waiting area with all the couples, I miss Mike. We have been extremely lucky that he's been able to attend all of my OB appointments so far, and for my last pregnancy, as well. I wait for well over an hour, as that always is the case at this maternity building, but finally I am called in.

I first meet with a very friendly Genetics Counselor, who draws out a family tree for my side of the family, and Mike's side of the family. She discusses how family may or may not expose possible red flags for genetic risks. She asks if our 2-year-old knows about the baby and I share our son's comments and insights about the baby, which leave her impressed and laughing.

After this meeting, and after more waiting, my ultrasound begins.

The sonographer is cheerful and talkative. It is incredible to see our little baby on the big screen! This is no small blurry sonogram at the OB's office when the baby is the size of a pee. The baby is now the size of a lime, 2 inches head to rump (they don't measure head to foot until around 20 weeks). The picture is clear and we have a lot of time to look at him/her. S/he is extremely active, putting his/her little hands to the mouth, hiding his/her little face, flipping around from side to side. The sonographer tells me my baby is "so cute," and when I ask if babies look different to her in the ultrasounds or mostly the same, she says, "They do look mostly the same. But some are just cuter than others. Some do cuter things, like move their hands around--like your baby is being cute." Even though Mike is not there, she shares in my awe of the baby and makes me feel as though I am having this experience with a friend.

She tells me that all of the measurements look great, and hands me a long roll of 2-D and 3-D images of the baby (although she warns me earlier that 3-D images at this point look a bit scary--and I have to agree a bit--the baby sort of looks like a skinny sumo wrestler! But I love it nonetheless). My bloodwork is completed quickly and I am finally on my way.

A few days later, I receive a call from the Genetics Counselor. She tells me that after this first screening (there will be a follow up during the 2nd trimester), my baby's chance of having one of the syndromes is in the lowest risk category, 1 in 10,000. I know there is still a 1 in 10,000 chance, but it does give me some peace of mind. And while I do not advocate unnecessary sonograms, it still was a pretty awesome experience to get to see my precious baby again, in all his/her active glory!

10 weeks pregnant: 2nd OB appointment

2011-11-17T12:28:00.022-05:00

Mike is able to join me for our second OB appointment, which goes very well. My doctor confirms the baby's due date of June 13, 2012, but after remembering I had my first baby one week early, he predicts this baby will come a bit before the due date as well. And since my first pregnancy led to a relatively short labor and delivery for a first time (11 hours), he makes another prediction that things will go even faster the second time. Even though I was pushing for 2 hours (although he said it could have been much longer given that the baby had such a big head size), he predicts this stage will also go much faster. He makes a joke about Mike's needing gloves for the car, and I recall how our cousin's second baby arrived just minutes after she reached the hospital (she was still wearing her t-shirt from home!). My grandmother also told me how each of her five labors became shorter and shorter, until her fifth child was actually born in the car!

Since my water broke before my hard labor started during my last pregnancy, I do wonder if I'll be certain of when I really am in labor. It was easy to know last time. Or, I guess I should say, it was easy to know when to go to the hospital (you're supposed to go fairly soon after your water breaks; it's possible they'll release you if you're far from labor, but usually they don't. And in my case, by the time I was at the hospital, my contractions were a minute apart, even if inconsistent, and I was definitely in labor). The night before I had the baby, I had been having many hard braxton hicks contractions, and when my water broke, they continued, to the point where I couldn't comfortably walk around when I was having them. I still believed they were just braxton hicks, but in hindsight, most likely, I was in labor. But I guess I was also in a little denial!

So this time around, I'll have to be a bit more serious about knowing when to go to the hospital, should my water not break first. Because, yeah, I don't particularly want to suit up the car for delivery.

The thought of labor and delivery makes me and Mike excited though. I was scared of labor and delivery the first time around, and while I know it will be no picnic, I guess my crazy mom-brain really has turned things around. Because I sort of look forward to it all now.

Again, the appointment grounds me into remembering just how real this little life inside of me is. I have had some morning sickness this time around (although it was never as bad as many women get, and the worst was over by 8 weeks) and I have had some heartburn, which remind me that, yes, I'm pregnant. But I need these appointments to show me I'm carrying our child. And this time, the proof is right in front of us. The doctor does another ultrasound and we get to see our little baby moving and wiggling around! I say, "Is that its head? At the bottom left?" "Yup," says my doctor. "And those are the eyes? And the arms are moving to the head right now?" "That's right! You have a real wiggler there!"

Mike and I are wowed. Our baby is moving and twisting and spinning. This is all going on inside of me and I had no idea s/he was so active already. It is another realty check. Over the past month, life has continued as usual. Our son has been amazing and perception, creative and funny, opinionated and challenging, but loving and sweet. It really is different the second time around. I'm a full time stay-at-home (SAH) mom, and my son takes up so much of my energy and thought. So when I am here at this appointment, when my son is at home with his grandmother, I remember I am the mother of a tiny baby too. And I like this grounding moment.

After the appointment, Mike and I see a matinee movie together, which is a nice treat. We savor these appointments, these afternoon dates. It is a nice time to reconnect with each other, and with our unborn child. (But yes, of course, we can't help spending some time talking about our other active child too. :)

6 weeks pregnant: 1st OB appointment

2011-10-21T12:23:00.000-04:00

We drive to the familiar office to see my trusted doctor. When we arrive, I see him in the hallway and he greets me. "I hear you have some exciting news!" "Yes! We're so happy!" And I am happy to get this final confirmation. A doctor's appointment. The nurse says, "Yup, you're pregnant!" My doctor does an ultrasound and even at just 6 weeks, we see the fluttering heartbeat on the screen, and we hear the strong beating. This is early, yes, but it is a very good sign that there is a strong heartbeat. For the first time, I feel there is a fourth family member with us. I'm not simply pregnant. I have a baby in me. A baby that is doing something on its own. Beating its own little heart.
The appointment gives me a focus. I'm not just a barrel of pregnancy symptoms (yes, I have more morning sickness this time, and yes, I have heartburn already). I'm a vessel of another life, and it is an awesome feeling to remember that again, amidst the play-dates, toddler songs, My Gym classes, games, and trains.

We put up the picture of our little lentil on the refrigerator. That is our baby. That is the fourth member to our family.

Telling the family

2011-10-16T07:53:00.001-04:00

Oct 16, 2011

Since I am visiting my parents at their house when we learn our exciting news, I don't wait long to tell them. I'm not going to walk around a house, visit with family, avoid wine, and keep this a secret. The first pregnancy, there was no way to tell them in person, but this second time, I'm here, and I'm not going to wait. Mike completely agrees and encourages me to tell them as soon as I can.

Of course, this second time around telling family seems to take a bit more time...My mom and brother are at the house after church, and I get Mike on skype so that we can tell them together. He is leaving for a conference in Boston in an hour and won't be very available for the next several days, so this is our chance. But my dad is still at church. We stall, Mike talks to Dylan on skype, we lose the connection a few times, we wait. Finally, my dad returns home and we get to share our exciting news. They are very happy for us, of course, and it is great to see my mom's excited reaction in person this time! It feels good!

At dinner out that night, I tell my brother's wife and my niece and nephew (then a few days later do a scavenger hunt for them leading to a baby surprise treat), and now there is only one brother and sister-in-law left to tell. We call and skype several times, but are never able to reach them at the same time. Finally, weeks later, he is available on the phone, but my SIL is painting and he says she can't talk. Mike and I are together and we decide we will tell them anyway, and my brother can pass on the news to my painting sister-in-law! And so we do! And this time, unlike the first time, my brother hasn't guessed in advance what we are about to tell him.

We decide to wait until we are together to tell Mike's parents in person. I wanted to tell my family so quickly, we didn't plan an elaborate way of telling them (although Dylan helped us by announcing, "Mommy is pregnant!" And no, he doesn't know what that means yet). So I looking forward to finding a creative way to tell them. However, adjacent to the news of our baby, Mike receives a job offer that while exciting, also requires a good deal of global travel. He is talking to his mother one evening when Mike and I are still hundreds of miles apart, and mentions our concern of his travel in light of our...he hesitates. He realizes he is saying too much...his mom fills in the blank, "Tara is pregnant?" Mike stutters, then conference calls me in quickly, and tells his mom the news. She congratulates us and gets Mike's dad on the phone. Mike gives him the news (he is excited, as well of course). Not exactly as we had planned to tell them, but as in life, we roll with all of it! And now we have many months ahead of us to simply enjoy the news with all of our family.

Those two pink lines...

2011-10-01T23:59:00.003-04:00

It's 11 o'clock on a Saturday night and I decide to take a pregnancy test. I took one a few days earlier--the morning I was leaving with D, my 2 1/2 year old son, for a week's visit upstate to see family. It was the last chance I had to discover if I were pregnant while Mike was with me (he didn't come upstate with us). But of course, I saw that annoying single pink line, taunting me. Ugh. I hate that single pink line. Anyone who has been trying to conceive for, oh, more than one month, probably hates that single pink line. Or blue minus sign. Or however your test tells you. But they all mean the same thing. The thing that the digital pregnancy test will tell you straight up--no lines or math signs, but in solid English: Not Pregnant.

I also hate the pregnancy test companies who tell you that you may (keyword: may) be able to know that you're pregnant up to (key words: up to) 6 days before your missed period. It's a good marketing campaign because, really, how many women will take a test every day, for 6+ days, waiting for that single line to turn into two? And at $8 a pop, that's not a small sum of money to spend in a week for the same single-lined result. But this is the second time around the pregnancy ride for me, and I'm not about wasting money. At least, not too much... I knew the chance was slim to find out this early. Still, I had hoped.

But two days later, here I am again. I tell myself I should just wait another day to take another test. I am 99% sure I am not pregnant because, while we have been trying...well, I honestly don't feel pregnant. I'm waiting to feel the same way I felt when I was pregnant with D. But I don't. Mike takes me at my word when I tell him that (sigh) I highly doubt I'm pregnant.

But. I take the test.

Single pink line.

Ugh. Stupid test.

I set it aside, deciding I'll throw it out in a minute. I take a shower, not even giving it a second thought. It's late. I need to get to bed. I have church with my parents tomorrow morning...

But when I get out of the shower, I suddenly think--What if it says pregnant now? What if it just needed a bit more time (I know I only waited about one minute instead of five)? What if I'm pulling a Carla in Scrubs here? I am sure it will still be a single line.

But I look at it.

Eyes widen.

Two pink lines.
Two pink lines!

And here is my movie moment.

I look up. I whisper. "Are you serious, God? Really? I mean, are you serious? Am I pregnant?"

I look at it again.

He seems pretty serious.

"Thank you, God!"

I blink. A few times. In a dramatic made-for-tv fashion, as is appropriate at a time like this. I smile. I think I even shake my head a little and laugh. I say a quick prayer for the baby's health, for my pregnancy, and then I want to tell Mike. Mike...Right...He is 300 miles away from me...I resist the temptation to call him immediately. I need to dry off, get dressed. I need to be comfortable for this conversation. I snap a quick picture of the test on my ipod, throw on some sweats, and slip into bed.

"Hey, babe," Mike answers.

He picked up. Good. Okay. I immediately send the picture from my ipod to his email.

"Hey, Mike. Can you check your email?" I cut right to the chase. I try to sound natural. Apparently, I do well enough, as he's expecting a video of our toddler or something. Remember, he is entirely convinced I am not pregnant.

"Okay," he says. He might hum something or make some little filler sound. I can't say anything. My heart is beating so fast. My palms are sweaty. I couldn't eat a thing.

There is that beautiful pause. Then...

"No way!" I hear a voice with delight. "Really? You're pregnant?!" He laughs.

"I guess so--right? I mean, you can see it too, right?"

"Yeah! There are two pink lines. The picture is fuzzy--"

"It's from my ipod--"

"But I can see it." He laughs again. "I'm pacing around the room."

We're both grinning the metaphorical ear to ear.

"You're pregnant!!"

"I'm pregnant!"

"We're having another baby!"

"Yeah we are!"

I had wondered, when we would find out for a second time that I'm pregnant, would we be as excited as the first time? For now, tonight, I know the answer. Yes. Yes, we are. And yes, it is still as surreal as it was the first time. There's a baby in me. A poppy seed. A little dot of a life. But a life. There are technical worries that creep into my mind--we only have two bedrooms, how will Dylan adjust, how hard is it going to be carrying a car seat and walking with Dylan up all those flights of stairs to our apartment...but I tell myself, Not now. Don't think of those things now. Enjoy this moment. Appreciate every second. Because this precious excitement, this wonderful surprise, is now. And I will enjoy it. I do enjoy it. I barely sleep that night, but I enjoy it.

8 months post-pregnancy body: Selfish mom and thoughts on the new belly

2010-01-03T14:55:00.004-05:00

Okay, so once the baby is born, it's all about the baby, right? Those mothering hormones kick in--we eat the burnt toast and give our kids the good piece, we wrap our toddler up in our own coat after he drops his in a puddle, we lift cars with our bare hands to rescue our child from beneath...Yes, this is true. Really. It is amazing how priorities change, how that fierce "protect my cub at all costs" instinct really does dictate actions, and how we would literally give up our lives in a heartbeat for our offspring.

However.

Don't my posts always have a nice healthy does of "however"s?

We're still human, we're still women, and we still remember (even if not on the forefront of our butternut squash purreed minds) what it was like to focus on ourselves. And hopefully, if we have a great support network, we can still find time to do a few little things for ourselves--whether it's a nice bubble bath, a pedicure, a movie with a friend, a private walk with a coconut milk bubble tea.

And time to ourselves means we can think more. One of my friends (a new mom in the Spring 09 onslaught of babies) recently emailed about how her baby is still a great sleeper. For her, this is good and bad. She writes, "I've been getting so much sleep, that I've started waking up with anxiety again, which wasn't a problem for the first few sleep-deprived months."

So sleep jealousy aside (and yes, Thank God, my baby is sleeping well at night now--I, on the other hand, still am not), she emphasizes this good point. The more time we have to think, the more our brains can start running circles around themselves.

Which brings me to my self-centered body-image post.

Okay. So let me start by saying, this isn't a pity-me-I'm-so-fat-afterhavingmybaby-post. I'm not fat and I am not even technically overweight. But my body is not the same as it was, and selfishly perhaps, I have the right to wonder when it will be, and be a tad impatient until it is.

While pregnant, I gained a healthy 25 pounds. I was pretty much all belly, and was delighted with my shape (as you can probably guess by all my exhibitionist weekly belly shots). At my 6 week postpartum appointment, I had lost 21 pounds. I went back to my OB at 8 weeks post-baby for an annual exam and had lost 23 pounds. Not bad, right? This was great! When I went to a party at 5 weeks postpartum, people exclaimed at how I could have just had a baby. Another party at 2 months, a cousin said, "Where'd you have your baby? From your head?" (Thanks, Kat!) I was happy. I was wearing a bikini at the pool, I escaped pregnancy stretch-mark free, and I didn't mind that my stomach wasn't entirely flat because, hey, I'd just had a baby 1 month ago. Or 2 months ago. Or 3, or 4 or 5 months ago...

And now, 8 months has come. And my body is still not back to its old taut self--in fact, I can't even say that I've kept that initial weight loss entirely. Many friends around me who've had babies during the boom seem back to their pre-pregnancy shapes. One of my friends whose baby experienced allergies from nursing went on a strict pear, turkey, sweet potato diet and within a month had that wonderful flat belly again. So what seemed awesome for a 2-month post-baby body now seems a bit lagging for 8-months postpartum.

A few days ago, after a wonderful Christmas of homemade cookies and chex mix, I decide it's time to buy a scale. We have had a scale before, but bought and moved into a fixer-upper house this fall, and since the renovations (which were supposed to be completed before we moved in two months ago) is far from being done, most of our items are still in boxes. Not a fun way to be living with a baby who is crawling and taking a few baby steps on his own already--but we are managing. So at this clearly necessary time, I buy a scale. A "Biggest Loser" scale to top it off. Goes up to 400 pounds. Great.

And wow. I remember why I don't usually have scales accessible. Every time I step into that bathroom, I am weighing myself. I weigh 2 pounds lighter in the morning than I do the night before. My clothes add 2 1/2 pounds. I weigh 5 oz more after drinking some water, 6 oz less aftering peeing, 1.8 pounds more after chinese food, 7 oz less after brushing my hair, 3 oz more after doing nothing...my weight fluctuates 5 pounds in one day...and it goes on and on...

Perhaps this scale is in a too convenient spot...

Okay, in all seriousness, the novelty will soon wear off the scale and I'll use it occasionally. And numbers aside, it's my stomach that I'm really unnerved about. Even after 8 months, it does not feel like my stomach. When I first had my baby, in the hospital, I remember lying on the bed and touching the skin on my belly and telling Mike, "this doesn't feel like my body. When I touch it, it feels weird. Like it's just skin, but not hitting my muscles, which is what makes it feel like it's me..."

And in fact, it was just skin not touching my muscles--because my muscles were all stretched out and not flush to my skin as they had been pre-pregnancy. Eight months later, my muscles are back and yes, I can feel them, but they are still separated and do not feel like they are mine. One of my yoga teacher friends felt my stomach and said she'd felt far more separated muscles on other women, and that mine weren't that bad. Perhaps, and for that, I am grateful. But they are still no where near what they used to be. I never even understood how they could be separated before, and my muscle-memory-perception of my normal stomach still expects them to be tight, so I am constantly feeling at a loss when I touch my abdomen.

Before I reiterate how I am not pleased with my body, I should point out, my loved ones have been nothing but supportive. Mike is constantly telling me how beautiful I am and that he is completely happy with my body. Strangers and acquaintances compliment me, and my new mom friends encourage me with positive reinforcement, but validation to my feelings of dissatisfaction.

But now I reiterate. I am not pleased with my body. The shape of my stomach still reminds me of my expanded uterus and while that's cute when I'm pregnant, it is not so much anymore. So as we are a few days into 2010, perhaps if I make this blog-public, I will start to get more serious about doing my best to make my body into a semblance of what it once was.

When I went to the beach with a few friends the month I got pregnant (July 08), one friend told me, "Don't let that baby of yours ruin your great abs." Okay, he's a dark-humor playwright friend of mine and he's gay so he can get away with saying that, but yes, evin, I remember that warning. And at the time, I thought there was no way my pregnancy would change my abs forever. I was totally confident that within a few months, I'd be back to my pre-pregnancy shape. And I wouldn't even have to work hard at it. I've always been lucky to have a body that responds well to little training, but...not that well anymore. So I have to do what they say in reality shows and "step it up." While D is playing his keyboard on his play mat, I'll be next to him doing my crunches and leg lifts and all that jazz. And my husband pulled out the eliptical machine amidst the chaos that we live in, and even put a light in that dark storagey room the machine resides in, so with a baby who goes to bed by 7:30 every night, there are no more excuses. Well, there are a lot of excuses, but I'll try not to let them get in the way.

And I'll end on this final note: That while I am a somewhat self-centered mom who does still tie a bit of happiness to my superficial body, everyone is 100% right when they say you wouldn't trade anything for your baby. I mean, this is obvious, of course, but to those pregnant women reading this and who might be thinking, "Man, will I ever get my body back? Will it be this hard for me, like it has been for Tara?" First of all, who knows. Maybe, maybe not. But secondly, there is a bit of "who cares" in that too. The thing is, you do care, but then again, you really don't care that much. Unless you're one of the girls on ANTM or Make Me a Supermodel who is modeling 1 year post-baby, most of the time, you are thinking about that adorable cuddle-bundle who stretches his arms out to you and says "MomMom," or who slobber kisses you with his mouth and tongue all over your face, or who refuses to let go of his spoon with a playful grin on his face until you beg him to giggles and he graciously places it in your hand...

Your baby is just so much fun and you love him so incredibly much...and you really do keep believing that some day, you will get your old body back...and if you don't...well...with all those crunches your little one keeps doing to sit himself up while you're trying to change him...at least you know your baby has abs of steel. And isn't it all about passing along the genes anyway?

You're still a very happy mommy.

Dancing with Baby: New Baby Blog

2009-10-04T21:27:00.000-04:00

I suppose it seems natural that with the birth of my baby, as my pregnancy blog winds down, a new baby-related blog emerges! Check out DancingWithBaby.com for, well, dancing with babies!

Postpartum 0-3 months: Pregnancy Nostalgia

2009-08-06T13:01:00.002-04:00

So since this blog has primarily been about my journey through pregnancy, I suppose it is fitting that, even three months postpartum, I can still post about pregnancy! No, I am not pregnant again (no intention of that any time soon), but my emotions are still clearly linked with the idea of being pregnant.

First, I should say, I am completely in love with my baby. It really is true that a mom loves her child more and more every day. I ache when I am away from him. I look forward to nursing him, I am in bliss when I see his smile, and I can't get enough of his baby sounds and baby giggles. He is turning pages in books, he's been rolling over for months, standing and lifting his neck since the day he was born, singing, playing in the pool, still hiccuping, still crying, still cuddling. I have so much love for him that probably only other parents can comprehend.

But.

That is not to say I haven't felt other emotions. And while I may get into more of them in another post, for now, I'll focus on my feelings toward pregnancy.

As you all know, I loved being pregnant. I posted about it, I relished my belly, I took many pictures of my pregnancy body, I savored every moment that I could--I was not ready to end my pregnancy. When my water broke a week early, my first reaction was, "You've got to be kidding me. Now? Ugh." I wanted my last week. If I had had my last week, perhaps I would have gotten to that state most women talk about--the time when you are ready to get the baby out of you, ready to be rid of acid reflux and backaches and finally meet your baby. Perhaps. However, most likely, if I had another week, I still would not have been ready to part with my pregnancy. More of a good thing doesn't necessarily make you want to end that good thing.

While I was in the hospital with our baby, my emotions were completely tied to my little son. I was not thinking of being pregnant, but merely focusing on the present. I was emotional when it came to the baby, but this was no surprise.

What was a surprise was my emotional state when Mike and I first sat down in the car on the way home from the hospital.

We open the car doors and I see a towel in the passenger seat. The towel I had placed there at 3am, when leaving the apartment after my water had broken, "just in case." As Mike pulls the car out of the parking lot, my throat tightens up. My mind recalls the excitement of the start of labor. The quietness of the apartment we left in the middle of the night. The rain we encountered as we drove to the place of our baby's birth.

And then, I start to cry. And I mean, really cry. And I am not a big crier. Mike tries to comfort me, but he doesn't know how, and honestly, I don't know how to tell him to comfort me. I don't even know why I am crying. Granted, I know I have barely slept for days, I have a new set of hormones since I am breastfeeding, my life has changed forever, and I am now in one of the biggest roles I will have throughout my life. All these things can make any new mom cry. But these thoughts do not appear to be my triggers.

When we arrive at home, I see towels heaped together from when I took my shower before we left for the hospital. I see the wedge I used to support my belly in bed. I see my prenatal vitamins and dha. I see the baby bottle we used to write notes in to our womb baby. When we take our baby to the pediatrician's, I see my OB's office on the way. And these things all make me cry. I miss being pregnant. I miss it so badly that it hurts. I feel as though the love of my life ended our relationship and I am heartbroken.

I am overly sensitive to things Mike says, and when I cry or tell him how he has hurt my feelings, he gets defensive and short with me, and it makes me cry more. He doesn't know how to deal with an emotional Me. I tell him to bear with me and be kind to me because I don't know why I am crying and I do not feel like myself at all. He says he will try, but he is not used to this. He and I both escaped my pregnancy without dealing with an emotional hormonal woman. I felt like myself up until the end and it is not until now that I understand what some women may have been dealing with for nine months.

I pray to God to end this phase of my emotions quickly. I tell my friend that I do not like how I feel when I am reminded of being pregnant. My friends who have had babies tell me this will pass. That everyone is emotional at first, even if not in the same way. They liken my sentiment to the feeling of preparing for a wedding, then when the wedding is over and the marriage has begun. You are happy to be married, but all the planning and excitement of getting married is over, and so there is naturally a letdown. The day after Christmas.

I comfort myself in knowing this is just a phase. As with the end of a relationship, there is a time of sadness, but you always know that things will get better with time, and eventually, you will find someone else who you will love even more. I know I will eventually stop feeling this pain remembering the joy of pregnancy, but for now, it hurts.

Three months later...

I can say that time and God do work wonders for pain. I no longer feel out of control with my emotions and I do feel like myself again. I am well passed the crying-out-of-the-blue stage. I am reasonable with Mike once again and I am all around happy. I have always loved being a mom to my baby, but the joys I find each day continue to grow and grow. I am socially busy most weekends and many weekdays. Mike and I have dates out to movies and dinner; I attend a rehearsal and production of the theatre class I taught; we go to parties and events with our son (and he does well!); we take a family vacation to Vermont. We thank God every day for giving us a healthy, happy, strong, beautiful baby. I do not think or talk of being pregnant very much now.

But.

When reminded, I do still miss being pregnant. The past few months I have seen the onslaught of my pregnant friends reach their last few weeks pre-baby. When my good friend enjoys her pregnancy, I am so utterly excited for her to have her baby. I talk to her often and when she tells me she thinks she is in labor, I feel overwhelmed with happiness for her. When other friends complain about their aches and discomfort in being pregnant, I crave to feel that irritating acid reflux again, for my lower back to ache, and for me to feel the baby "all up in my ribs" so that driving is uncomfortable. I still tear up when I see pregnant women walking in town and despite my friends' third trimester complaints, I can't help but think silently to myself, "But you are so lucky!"

Yes, evolution and God have worked well to program my body for procreation! I am glad that the logical part of my brain would not allow me to attempt to get pregnant for another year or two, because I am not ready to handle a toddler and infant quite yet. I also know that a second pregnancy cannot be like the first. I will have my hands full with an active boy. I will be in a different place. I will know what I am in for during the newborn months. And I may not have such an easy pregnancy as my first.

But for now, thinking of my pregnant hard belly, the kicks and movements felt in my uterus, the special honor of exclusively housing a tiny life for nine months, the excitement of waiting to meet my baby--my eyes do still mist up. But now, thinking of those precious memories, through my misty eyes, I smile as well.

Pregnant Belly Shot Retrospective: 9 Months

2009-06-25T15:30:00.001-04:00

Belly Shot Retrospective:
9 Months of Change...

1 month... 2 months...

3 months... 4 months...

5 months... 6 months...

7 months... 8 months...

9 months... (39 weeks and 40 weeks)

40 weeks, not pregnant!

Detailed Birthing Story Part III: The Delivery

2009-06-15T16:00:00.006-04:00

Below is a detailed account of Part III of my birthing story. You can check out here:

Part I and Part II of the detailed stories, or read a short version of the birthing story here.

Birthing Story Part III: The Delivery
April 15, 2009: 11am-1pm

My OB is gone, and the room feels somewhat empty, even though our doula, Mike, our nurse, Mary and a student nurse, Linda, are all present. Mary wastes no time in telling me to start pushing as my doctor ordered.

Since the epidural is clearly not working, she tells me to pull my legs back and hold them toward me. I want to push them away from me, but she says that will not help. I tell her I need to pull or push on something. I keep pushing through each contraction, but I do not feel as comfortable as I think I could.

I then remember a story a friend has told me about a woman pushing through labor. While the woman held one end of a bed sheet, someone else held the other end by her legs. The woman pulled on the sheet resisting the other person, and this helped her understand how she should be pushing.

I tell Mary this story and ask if there is a way I can try something like that.

“Hm…” she says. “I can get out the bar.” She goes to a closet and pulls out a metal bar then attaches it over the bed. She takes a sheet and loops it through the top of the bar and hands me the other end.

“You can pull on this and sort of climb up the sheet. That might help.”

So I grab onto the sheet and during the next contraction, I pull myself up by grasping the sheet and holding on as tightly as I can. Mike holds back one leg and Laura holds back the other.

I find that pulling on the sheet does make pushing easier. I am not sure if I am pushing better, but I feel I am using more of my muscles which want to be used, and somehow it helps me to focus. So for the next hour and a half, we proceed like this. Mike tells me later that I push against his holding my leg so hard that he has to prop his elbow against the metal bar and his hand to my leg, creating a sort of brace with his arm bone. Laura manages to hold me back without this assistance and we do not know how she made it through the next 90 minutes of my pushing against her!

The nursing student counts three series of 10 for me to push through during each contraction. Because my contractions are long, I have additional time after my third round of pushing, so, after a while, I ask if I can push again. The nurse tells me I can if I have the strength for it. I find that pushing through the contractions relieves more of the pressure and pain than simply breathing through each, so while I am expending a great deal of energy, I choose to push a fourth time during most contractions.

After 45 minutes or so, my OB and the resident return for the remainder of the pushing. There are now at least seven people always present at one time (and by the end, eight), and they form an amazing cheering team for me. The mood is still happy, light, jovial. It is surreal from my perspective, especially since I push with my eyes closed, focusing only on that moment. But I appreciate the happiness felt in the room.

I am exhausted, but I also discover a rhythm. I listen for the doctors’ reactions to my pushes and gauge what kind seems to be most effective. When I figure this out, I continue to push at my maximum strength. I realize the best kind of pushing is one which I use my whole body for, making me feel as though I am going to throw up—so I focus on using this kind of pushing as we get closer to the delivery.

After another half hour or so, Dr. T tells me that we are getting closer.

“How much closer?”

“Pretty close. We’re getting there. Not another hour. You’re making great progress.”

“But how close. Like, give me a time, an estimate.”

“Maybe half an hour.”

I fall back, disappointed. “I don’t know if I can do this for another half hour!” I tell him, but everyone encourages me, and when the next contraction builds, I am ready.

As things are progressing, the resident doctor asks if I would like a mirror to see the baby’s head, which is now showing. I grunt, “No thank you.” A bit later, he also asks if I would like to feel the baby’s head, and I respond with the same, “No, thank you.” My cheering squad laughs and remarks at how polite I am during labor. While I refuse his offers at the moment, I am appreciative of the fact that he was considerate enough to ask if I would like those opportunities. But at the time, I am entirely focused only on pushing and do not want any distractions, even if they have to do with the excitement of my impending baby!

It is now approximately 12:30pm. And unbeknownst to me, Mike begins recording the audio of my labor on his iphone and continues to record for an additional hour after the baby is born. So from here on out, I am able to use quotes with confidence, as I have transcribed most of the conversations.

I push three times and ask if it is too late to push a fourth time (as they have told me only to push a fourth time if the contraction has not yet started to descend).

“Save your strength,” Dr. T tells me. “I don’t know how you have as much strength left as it is!”

“Yes, save it for the next one,” Mary tells me. “You’re almost there.”

“You’re really close. Within the next 10 minutes or so,” says Dr. T., knowing I prefer to have a goal in mind.

“You’re a warrior,” says Mike.

“She’s on autopilot,” Mary laughs.

“Remember how when we started this, you were like, ‘I don’t know, I don’t think I can push’? You’re like a machine!” Mike says.

“Look at you,” another nurse who has now arrived says. “You’re doing great!”

“Well, I don’t like it,” I tell my team and everyone laughs.

“If you liked it,” Dr. T says, “you’d shoot your baby across the wall!”

There is more laughing and joking until my next contraction comes. The tone of the room is still incredibly happy.

I push through it for four series, and Dr. T smiles, “You better not ever make her mad! Because she’s got some inner strength waiting to come out!”

At this point, the doctors and nurses discuss bringing me down further and dropping the bed in preparation for…delivery!

After my next contraction, there are more words of encouragement, and my doctor jokes of how we should be playing “Metalica or something while she’s pushing.” Mike suggests Rage Against the Machine, there is excited laughter, and then I am pushing again.

“How are you gonna get the baby out though?” I ask at one point.

“Trust me,” Mary says, “The baby will come out!”

“You have a good baby too,” Dr. T says. “He hasn’t flinched once!”

At this point, things start to move very quickly. The resident doctor reminds me of a few last tips for my pushing—keep my chin down, make sure to breathe out entirely then breathe back in before each round of pushing. He and my OB discuss procedures together, they are moving the bed. I hear a nurse say, “I couldn’t even get a blood pressure reading! She has too many contractions!” The baby nurse moves Mike to another position, so he no longer is seeing the baby’s head. I ask the doctors, “So, I have to get the head out myself?” They laugh and tell me yes, but they will take over once the head is out. They also say they are going to tell me to stop pushing at that point, “because we want it to come out relatively slowly.” The nurse asks me if this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I am not sure if it is or not, but it feels as though it is at the time and I tell her, “Yeah…”

After a few more rounds of pushing, Dr. T. says, “Okay, the next one, you’re gonna get it. You’re doing so well.”

The resident follows that up with, “The next set of contractions, I think you’re gonna have a baby!”

My contraction begins and is building. “Okay,” Dr. T says. “Get ready to be a mom!”

“And Dad,” Mary chimes in for Mike.

I hear these words. That I am going to be a mom. Mike laughs, and excitement is dripping from the walls. But my mind is still not ready to comprehend this. I know these words should make me feel something more, but all I feel is each contraction, and all I know is that I need to push hard and efficiently so that I can put an end to all this pain. And for that, I need to focus on nothing but the task at hand.

I push twice and the doctors tell me to stop. They speak to each other, I hear a little squirt or suction, then a tiny, tiny cry—“Eh.” That stops me in my mental tracks (but of course, I can barely stop my physical tracks and I quickly ask when I can push again.). There is a baby down there!

After the doctors give me the go-ahead to push once more, I do, and instantly hear a more distinct baby cry.

“56,” a nurse declares. (The time is 12:56pm) The crowd is elated!

My doctor instantly puts the baby on my belly. A nurse brings him up closer to my face and I am suddenly holding my baby boy in my arms! I am holding my baby! I am holding my baby! He is alive and squirming, he is red and slimy, and I am in pure joy and disbelief.

“Oh, what a beautiful baby!” The baby nurse exclaims. “Hey, beautiful,” she says to him.

“You did it!” says Mary.

“Great job!…Great job,” the doctors tell me.

“You wanna cut the cord?” Dr. T. asks Mike.

“Sure!”

The doctors hand Mike a pair of scissors. “Put it right between your fingers.”

As Mike cuts the cord, which I barely notice, I ask Mary, “What do I do now?”

She laughs. “You be a mommy now!”

As I read these words transcribed from the audio of that day, I cannot help but think of how simple and perfect they are. All my preparation, all of my planning, all of the eating the right thing, taking the right vitamins, avoiding certain activities, buying baby items, decorating a nursery, having back pain, acid reflux, feeling my baby kick me in the ribs, feeling my water break, breathing through each painful contraction, pushing out of me a 7 pound 13 oz baby—all of this is over. I don’t “do” any of it anymore. Now, my task is to do what I have been preparing for all this time. To be a mommy.

I look at my baby, and between exclamations of “Oh, my God!” I smile at him and simply say, “hey, there…”

My doctor comments on how our baby, although a week early, was “not small” and “plenty ready…You had a term baby.”

Mike is laughing and crying, and now the baby, at the nurse’s jiggling and coaxing, is also crying. “That’s it. Now we’re getting it. We finally got a good cry so we can keep him here with us.”

Mike points out, “He’s so squirmy!”

“You’ve always been squirmy,” I tell the baby.

“He’s looking at you,” Laura says.

I look into my baby’s eyes and tell him what I’ve been saying to him for months in the womb. “I love you…”

“He’s pretty calm,” Mike observes.

“I know! You did such a good job!” I tell the baby.

“He’s like, it’s cool being here with Mom.”

As the doctors finish their part of the process, Mike and I continue staring at our baby. Mike tells the baby how we were just singing to him the previous night and apologizes for his cold hands on our baby’s warm body. The baby lifts his whole head up already to look around, his eyes very wide and alert. He stretches his body and looks at his dad. I start breastfeeding (although he won’t really get into this until about half an hour later), and after the nurse takes his temperature, she says he is warm enough to stay on my chest for a while before they examine him.

Before this moment, I had not known if I would want the baby immediately placed on me, or if I would like him “cleaned up” a bit first. But I am grateful to the doctors who, knowing I had requested to keep the baby on me as much as possible in my birthing preferences, simply gave me the baby with no questions asked. The moment I first feel my baby, not even ten seconds after he is born, on my bare chest, is one of the best moments in my life.

When the doctors are finished, my OB congratulates me with a kiss. “You did fantastic! Okay? You couldn’t have done better.”

“Your prediction was right of like how fast it would be,” I say. “I mean, the pushing of course took a while...”

“The pushing took—average, well, below average really,” He encourages me. “Normally it would have been like 3 hours, if it, he, came at all. But you pushed fantastically. I’ll see you some time tomorrow. Baby looks great. Nice sized baby. And everything went perfect! Okay?”

I thank him and he leaves. It is not until listening to the audio recording of his last speech that I wonder what exactly he meant when he says it normally would have been 3 hours of pushing, “if it, he, came at all.” It worries me to think that he might have been implying if pushing had taken much longer, I would have ended up having a c-section. [And at my postpartum visit, my OB does tell me that, in fact, I would have had a c-section if I had not pushed with as much strength and determination as I did, and most women would have ended up with one. "That baby was not going to come out that way if it hadn't been for you not giving up." I cannot believe this and when I ask why, he simply says, "It was a very tight squeeze." This disturbs me that there was a chance I could have had a c-section simply because of this reason, and that my OB probably was thinking I would end up with one...]

But these thoughts do not cross my mind at the time. It has been a long day, and there is much more to come. We immediately are given menus to order lunch, Mike’s parents come into the delivery room to congratulate us and meet their grandson. We are moved to the Maternity floor, have more visitors that night, and I barely sleep for the next few nights (and weeks) as I am amazed at the new little life in my life.

I am grateful that all of our prayers have been answered regarding our baby. My pregnancy was perfect, as my doctor reiterates at my 6 week postpartum visit. I had no complications, I felt great, and I enjoyed every moment of it. In fact, I was one of the unusual people who was not ready to give up being pregnant when my time came, as I loved the experience so much. My labor and delivery were relatively short, and in hindsight, I am glad it all happened exactly as it did. Our baby is born healthy (9 out of 10 on the apgar test), strong (not only is he picking his head up his first day of birth, but he is supporting his own weight in standing this day, as well), and happy (he is smiling within 24 hours). It truly all happened in perfect timing and I thank God for that.

While I write this at my two-month delivery anniversary, recalling my emotions at the time of our baby’s birth, I almost feel as though I am a different person looking back at an experience with the advantage of knowing the future. While D. is now a feisty, interactive, cooing little guy, and I am a diaper changing, baby-singing, nail clipping professional, I still see myself that first day of D’s life, and I feel the wonder and excitement of it all. Having no idea where this baby would take me. Having no idea what my life would be like, how I would feel in one day, one week, one month. It is a feeling that still brings tears to my eyes as I revel in the newness of his life.

Of course, being only two months into life as a parent, is still, being only two months into life as a parent! The birth is here, but there are more milestones to come than I can possibly imagine. And there are so many things I do not know about our son and about being a parent. I am excited that while the pregnancy journey this blog has been following has come to a close, the most challenging and rewarding journey of navigating through our son’s life has barely begun.

I thank all of you who have read this blog, who have prayed for us, who have left messages of support, who have been there for us all along the way. It has been very meaningful to have the opportunity to immortalize and share nine of the best months of my life. You have made this a more special experience for me and for that, I am truly grateful.

Detailed Birthing Story Part II: Ah, Labor...

2009-05-27T18:30:00.001-04:00

Below is Part II of my detailed birthing story. You can check out a shorter version here, and Part I of the detailed story here.

Birthing Story Part II: Ah, Labor

April 15, 2009, 4am-11am

When we step through the elevator doors, we are greeted by an empty waiting room, followed by an empty front desk. We recall during our tour of the Labor and Delivery floor, the nurse informing us that at night, there may be no one sitting at the desk, and to be sure to call out for someone, so we do this. A woman comes to the desk and we give her my name. “Oh, yes, Dr. T. has called you in already and you have pre-registered, so you’re all set. Lucy will show you to your room.”

Lucy, our night nurse, opens a door and tells me to follow her. She asks some questions about my water breaking and I inform her I am 100% positive it has broken. Since this happened two hours earlier, I still am very uncomfortable and relieved to find my way into my room quickly.

My labor and delivery room is very large, and every room is private. There is a bed in one area, a baby warmer in another, several chairs, many wooden cabinets, hard wood floors, large windows, and a bathroom. Immediately, I am given a gown and told to change in the bathroom, where Lucy confirms yes, my “membranes” have definitely “ruptured.” She helps me to the bed, attempts to make me comfortable, asks some medical questions, draws some blood, and places a fetal monitor around my belly, and a blood pressure band around my arm.

By now, our doula, Laura, has joined us in our room. It feels nice to have another person in the room to support us. It is around 4:30am at this point, and I am thirsty. I foolishly did not drink before I entered the hospital. I ask the nurse if I can have some water and she looks at me with a mocking smile. “Honey, has anyone told you how things work in the hospital?”

I am annoyed she responds like this, but through my contractions, I tell her, I am aware I cannot eat, but I am just asking for water. Noticing my doula sitting with her birthing ball, she asks if I have a birthing plan. I tell her, yes, I have “birthing preferences.”

“What I tell women who bring in birthing plans is to right away, toss them out the window.”

I remain soft-spoken and kind. “My birthing preferences are not very extreme. My doctor’s seen them and said they’re very reasonable. It’s less than one page.”

She goes on to inform me how I cannot drink, I cannot eat, I must stay on the fetal monitor and if I need to go to the bathroom, I must inform her, so she can unhook the monitor (she is not happy later when Mike or Laura unhooks something to allow me to get up). I am not happy at how my experience is beginning, but I do accept the ice chips they allow, which conveniently melt into, God forbid, water, and I have a few bites of a sherbet-like treat which they also allow.

Lucy confirms I am in labor, having real contractions very frequently, from less than 1 minute to approximately 3 minutes apart, but inconsistently. A resident doctor comes in soon after and informs me I am 2 cm dilated. I am disappointed I am not further along than this. She asks me on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being regular menstrual cramping pain, and 10 being excruciating pain, where my pain level is. I tell her perhaps at a level 2 at this point. I want to leave plenty of room for things to get worse!

Lucy tells me to relax and wait. It may be a while.

As Mike is unpacking a few of our belongings, I see the cord blood banking kit. I mention to the nurse how we are banking the cord blood and she says, “You should have told me that sooner. I have to draw your maternal blood for it and I could have done that when I drew your blood when you first came in. But I’ll do it again now.”

“Well, it was listed on my birthing preferences sheet, so see—there was a point to having it!”

She nods good naturedly, “That’s true. Okay, let me see your birthing plan.”

I tell her I call it simply “birthing preferences” not a plan, and she says she likes this terminology and will use it herself. She looks at my preferences, agrees they are reasonable, and says she will make a copy and put it in my chart. She seems much less uptight now, and even tells me, “If your water hadn’t broken and you’d labored at home for the early stages, then you could have drunk and eaten as much as you’d liked. I’m sorry that you had to come in this early…I could tell you that I would never know if you ate or drank when I’m not in the room, but…”

I take this as a sign that she is more sympathetic than she originally portrayed.

For the next few hours, I labor in the room. Mike and Laura are supportive as I use my yogic experience to breathe through each contraction. We gossip about the nurse, they fill my ice chip cup with water as I request, we talk about the surreal quality of what is happening, and watch as the sun rises above the city.

Around 6:30am, my OB stops by. He has a surgery this morning so I am lucky enough to be able to see him several times. When he enters the room, I feel so much joy to see a familiar face. He is kind, he is knowledgeable, and he is not only my doctor, but I feel he is my advocate. He examines me and says I am still at 2cm, even though my contractions now feel much more painful. “But you’re still smiling!” he observes as I rest between contractions.

“I wasn’t a minute ago!”

He tells Lucy that I do not need to be on the fetal monitor constantly, and that I should be able to walk around if I feel like it (which is written on my birthing preferences). I ask him if I can drink water and he quickly gives me a canned explanation of why hospitals do not allow laboring women to drink or eat—a higher risk of asphyxiation if one throws up etc. but then he tells me I may drink water if I’d like. “Just take small sips. Don’t guzzle it.”

After he leaves, I feel more empowered and more comfortable in the hospital. I am so grateful that he has spoken up for my wishes and the nurses will not question him. They are small wishes, but at the moment, they feel enormous, and I feel grateful.

At 7am, there is a change of nurses; Lucy leaves and Mary is now my nurse. Mary is a kind Irish woman who goes out of her way to make me comfortable. She brings with her a young blonde student nurse, and she asks me if I am comfortable with her assisting. I say I am fine with her participating.

As my pain is increasing quite rapidly, I decide I’ll take a shower as my first main coping technique. Laura asks our nurse if there is a stool or chair I can have in the shower, and Mary brings a short stool. She also finds an extra towel to place on top of it, which I appreciate and would not have thought of myself.

For the next 45 minutes or so, I labor in the shower. I try sitting on the stool, standing up straight, standing with my hands against the side of the shower. I sit on my knees and put my arms across the stool. I stand over the stool with my hands on it. I try as many positions as I can, and I am in extreme pain.

I breathe deeply through each contraction, close my eyes, and tune out everything else. Mike stands next to the shower and offers me help in any way I want it. He relays messages for me, he prays for me, he changes the temperature of the water to warmer, colder, warmer, colder. I squeeze his hand. I do not want any distractions—something I thought that I would want. I have even brought along dvds of Arrested Development and 30 Rock, thinking watching comedy will help distract the pain of labor. But I do not want to be distracted. I want to focus on nothing but breathing through each contraction and finishing it.

I dread the feeling of the beginning of a contraction because I know it is going to get much worse before it gets better. At the end of each contraction, I feel weak, faint, feverish, sweaty. I feel like I am going to throw up, and I feel like I just have thrown up. I whine to Mike that I am not getting much break between contractions since often one begins just as another is ending. I tell him I am not enjoying this at all and I think I am going to ask for an epidural. He says okay, and asks if I really want one. I say I think I do, but I worry I am not far enough dilated.

After several more contractions, I tell him, yes, I definitely want an epidural. He stands by me through a few more contractions and then he goes out to tell our doula. I feel bad that she will not witness an unmedicated birth, but I know she will support me in whatever decision I make.

Mike returns and helps me out of the shower. I tell him and Laura that I want to make sure I am far enough dilated before getting an epidural, but to find our nurse to get the process started. Mary returns to us, and tells me she will find the resident to check my dilation.

It is approximately 9am when the resident informs me I am almost 5 cm dilated! We are all thrilled that I have dilated this much since the last exam. I feel relieved to have made it to active labor before getting an epidural, as I do not want it to slow down my labor.

The anesthesiologist arrives within 15 minutes, and I follow her instructions implicitly so as to make the procedure move as smoothly and quickly as possible. Mike and Laura are encouraging as I sit still through the uncomfortable process. When it is complete, I start losing the sensation in my feet, then legs, then butt, and soon I feel my uterus harden, but I do not feel pain. “I’m having a contraction now, aren’t I?” I ask, smiling. “I can’t feel the pain!” It is amazing to have this reprieve!

Around 9:30, my OB returns, smiles and says, “So you decided to get the epidural!”

“Yes, I did!” I smile back.

He examines me and informs me I am now 6 cm dilated, so things are progressing quickly. He returns to his office, and will join me later. Then, about 20 minutes after having received the epidural, very soon after my OB has left, I observe that I now can feel my feet.

“That’s normal,” Mary tells me.

Not long after this, I begin to feel my legs, then my butt, and before I know it, I am feeling my contractions again, and they are more intense than before the epidural. “That is not normal,” Mary tells me. I am breathing through each contraction as I was before, closing my eyes, focusing, tuning out my surroundings. Laura tells me to think of the relaxing beach. I visualize the ocean from Mike’s and my babymoon to Antigua and I focus on the waves. I keep telling Mike and Laura that I feel sick and each time, they offer me a pink plastic pan to throw up in, as I am certain I will vomit; I have been certain of this since before even entering labor, as my stomach has always been my weak point, but thankfully, I never end up using it.

I also feel a cold liquid down my back, which is not the mental effect of the drug, but rather an actual liquid leaking. The anesthesiologist returns, apologizes, and fixes whatever the culprit is. However, nothing changes with the pain of my contractions. They are even more intense than before.

Around 10:30, Mary tells me, “I’m going to call the resident to check you out again. You may be dilating so quickly that it’s not working. But you should not be feeling your contractions like this.”

The resident returns and examines me. He is very fast and says, “Well, she’s fully dilated!”

I look at him quizzically. “As in, I’m 10 cm dilated?”

“Yup! You’re ready to go!”

Mary, Laura, Mike and I almost laugh in disbelief. An hour ago, I was 6cm dilated and now I am “ready to go!” My OB was correct in his guess from the previous week that when I do go into active labor, I will most likely dilate very quickly. The resident tells me he will contact Dr. T. who will be here shortly (his office is a few minutes away).

As we wait for my OB to arrive, Mary explains my fast dilation is why the epidural has not worked. I still do not understand this reasoning entirely, but I ask if there is anything they can do to now make it work.

“You don’t want to get anything more at this point, because you want to be able to feel your contractions a little bit when you’re pushing,” Mary tells me.

“Don’t worry—I will definitely feel my contractions!”

“Sometimes, they can ‘top off’ the epidural before you start pushing, but I’m not sure your doctor will have you do that.”

As I wait for my OB to arrive, I begin feeling more excited as I know our son is not far away, more pain from the intense contractions, and more anxiety over the part of labor I have feared the most—pushing.

When Dr. T. arrives, he examines me, then confirms, “Yes, you’re 10 cm dilated!”

He can clearly see that the epidural is not working and he asks if I’d like them to “top it off.” I give him a hearty “yes”, and the nurse calls the anesthesiologist back who administers another small dose.

“Do you feel any relief?” Dr. T. asks me.

“Not really,” I tell him. “Maybe my contractions are shorter?” I am desperate to find something it is helping with. “I don’t know though.”

“Hm,” he says. At this point, I realize there is nothing more anyone is going to be able to do for my pain. I am going to have this baby with no help from medication. Later, one of my friends will joke with me that I failed at having a natural childbirth, and I failed at having a medicated birth! Or conversely, I can view the experience as having a forced-success at the type of birth I’d originally wanted!

My OB walks toward the door and speaks to Mary on his way out. “You can have her start pushing,” he says. “It’s probably going to be a while.” Then he leaves.

Mary comes to my bedside and tells me, “Okay! You’re ready to start pushing!”

“What?” I say. “Can’t I wait a little while?”

“Why would you want to wait, honey?”

“If I wait longer until the baby is more ready, then maybe I won’t have to push for as long?”

“No, your baby is ready. Dr. T. said it’s time for you to start pushing.”

“But I don’t know how to push. I’m really not ready…”

“You’re ready. You can do it,” she encourages me.

Mike and Laura are equally as encouraging. I can sense the utter excitement emanating from my husband—he knows it will be a matter of minutes, or a matter of hours, before we will be holding our baby now. He knows that I am scared, that I am in pain, but he knows that I will get through it—I have to get through it. And I will be healthy and I will be okay. So he is excited. I know these things, as well. And so, I have no choice but to start pushing. Because once I have gotten through the delivery, my pushing and my pain will all be a memory. And the pain and fear a memory holds will not be as bad as the moment.

And so I start pushing. And the next phase begins!

My detailed Birthing Story: Part I – From Home to Hospital

2009-05-11T16:42:00.006-04:00

So I will post my detailed birthing story in a few parts. If you would like to read a shorter version, check this post out instead.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009:

Today, I diligently work at my “to do” list and finally feel that I have completed the majority of “necessary” tasks. I then meet with my friend for lunch at Cosi. We have been trying to get together for a while, but have been unable to make our schedules work. We decide we must get together soon, as I only have one week before my due date! Mike also calls me from work to tell me his coworkers have thrown him a surprise Baby Shower! We are both touched by this, and think it good timing, although cutting it close a week before my due date (we don't know how close we really come...).

When Mike comes home from work Tuesday night, he takes my 39 week belly shots (and I finally take one of him!). Then we meet with our agent from H & R Block to finalize our taxes (it has been a saga with them, as we’ve visited their office 2 other times prior to this). When we arrive home, it is almost 10pm. There is one piece we must put out in the mail, but everything else has been filed electronically. I am so relieved to have completed our taxes, albeit last minute.

Mike also informs me that he no longer feels sick. On Easter Sunday evening (my birthday this year), Mike starts feeling like he is coming down with a cold. He and I are both very upset about this, as we don’t know when I’ll go into labor and do not want him to be sick when we have our newborn. On Monday, he definitely has a cold. He takes airborne and we pray hard. So we are both ecstatic when he says he feels his cold is gone already Tuesday evening. We thank God and feel another sense of relief!

The rest of my week is fairly planned out. I have a hair appointment on Wednesday morning, and a lunch date with a friend in the afternoon. On Thursday, I am meeting with two more friends, then have an informal photo-shoot with an artist friend on Friday (photos of me pregnant, but also of Mike and me, which we don’t have yet). Then comes our weekend. We have no plans for the first time in as long as I can remember, so we will spend quality time together, as it may be the last weekend we have as a family of two. Even though my doctor has told me he doesn’t think I will make my next appointment with him on Monday, I feel I will at least wait until Sunday to go into labor.

However, I also know that if I were to go into labor tonight, Mike and I are about as ready as we will be. At long last, there is nothing else left that we have to do, only things that we want to do. We are both healthy, our taxes are done, the baby room is ready, shelves are fairly organized, carseat bases are in, we just got the cosleeper set up…We could have this baby now…

Which is good to know, because something unusual is going on with this baby now…

All evening, the baby has been kicking and moving like never before. It feels as though he is hurling himself against the sides of my uterus. He is banging with full force, and not just a leg or a shoulder, but his whole body seems to be shifting and moving. I also am experiencing a lot of cervical pain as he bangs around. I still have what I think are Braxton Hicks contractions, but they are more intense now. It is hard to walk around when I am having them, and before I go to bed, I notice another medical clue that my labor may be coming. Something is definitely up…

Then at 12:30am, I head to bed. Around 1:15am, I get up to go to the bathroom. I go back to bed. Then around 2am, I wake up again, feeling as though I need to go to the bathroom. It is dark and I step out of bed and…

My water breaks…!

Now, a few weeks ago, at the advice of one friend, I put a small waterproof mattress pad under the sheets on my side of the bed. And after I receive my “I don’t think you’ll make it to your appointment next week” news from my OB, Monday and this night, I also put a towel on top of my sheets—again at the advice of a friend whose water broke in the middle of the night.

So when I stand up and realize my water has broken, I grab the towel and head to the bathroom. I turn on the light, turn off the background noise fan, and call to Mike.

“Mike. Mike—get up. I think my water broke,” I say in weary voice.

He gets up and appears at the bathroom door. “Really? Are you sure?” It is dark in the apartment, cool.

“I think so.”

I can tell Mike is getting that giddy-middle-of-the-night excitement. I have a controlled adrenaline pumping through my tired veins also.

I get into the shower and tell him to call the doctor’s office to leave a message for him to call us back. “When he calls back, let me know and I’ll talk to him.”

I stand in the shower and hear Mike on the phone. “She thinks her water just broke…39 weeks…Our number is 914…”

While I am standing in the shower, my mind is pacing. It is not racing. It is slow; it is alert, but it is tired. I tell Mike this is not how I wanted it to happen. I did not want to have my water break so early on. I wanted to labor at home for a while first (my OB said to go to the hospital if my water broke and they would evaluate me then). I did not want to go into labor in the middle of the night on less than 90 minutes sleep. I did not want to go into labor a week early. I wanted to savor one more week of being pregnant…one final quiet weekend with my husband…

But our baby knows what he is doing, and this is the time. So whether it fits my plan or not, this is the night.

My OB calls back quickly, and I tell him I think my water broke.

“You think your water broke?”

“Yeah. I think so...”

“What is it like? Is it a gush or a trickle?”

“Um…I guess both…” I give him some details.

He sounds sleepy and tells me I need to go to the hospital.

“Okay,” I say disappointed, but knowing this is what he will say. We’ve been over this before.

I hang up and tell Mike what the OB says. Earlier on Tuesday, I had called Mike at work on his cell phone and he did not pick up. He called me back a bit later, and I reminded him, “You know, you really should pick up your cell phone if I call you. The doctor said I could go into labor any time, and I’m only a week until my due date.”

“You’re right!” he had said. “I was in a meeting before, but I should pick up anyway. Everyone understands. I’ll definitely pick up if you call no matter what I’m doing.”

But he will never need to receive this call from me! I tell him to get his things together for the hospital. He has not packed anything yet, so he quickly gathers a change of clothes, his toothbrush. I only have one or two things to pack last minute from my list, so after doing that, I turn on my laptop. I email my friends to cancel plans for this week, as well as my family to cancel my hair appointment for me (they don’t have an answering machine at the salon). I grab the envelope for our taxes and put way too many stamps on the outside (I am not sure how many the thick envelope will need), so we can safely drop it in the mailbox on our way. I tell Mike to give our bird extra food and water in additional dishes. I update this blog and my facebook status with a sentence or two, and take another shower and get dressed.

I am feeling more of what, again, I think must be Braxton Hicks contractions. They are mildly painful, but not enough for me to think I might actually be in labor already.

It is now 3:30am, and we are ready to leave. We walk out of our apartment and lock the door. It is dark outside. And raining. The street is quiet and peaceful. It reminds me of when we must catch a 5am flight to go on a vacation. The world is sleeping, and while we are sleepy ourselves, we are excited. The excitement of knowing something very very big and unfamiliar is about to occur.

On the way to the hospital, I call my mother and tell her the news. I am uncertain of when I should call her, as just that night, around 10pm, she sends me this email after I ask her when I should call if I go into labor:

So call our home phone and leave a message. Don't leave a message, but you can call our cell if we don't answer at home. We would get that as a missed call with your number so we'd call you when we found it or when we got home and got the message. Call during the nite if it's that fast, but I'd think it'd be a daytime call first that you are in labor or an early morning one that you're in labor and then sometime that you are going to or are at the hospital. And of course the news! whenever!

When I read the email Tuesday night, I am tired and rushing through it and don’t entirely understand what she is saying. So I decide I will call at 3:45am and tell her regardless. She sounds alert and excited on the phone. At this point, I am having real contractions, but they are erratic—happening every three minutes, then every minute, then barely subsiding before merging into another one, then five minutes of break…

We arrive at the maternity building of the hospital, park, and walk in the rain to the front door. It opens and the security officer asks no questions as he usually does, but simply says, “Second floor,” and pushes the elevator button for us.

We step in and take the ride to the Labor & Delivery Floor, where we will remain for the next ten hours or so, where I will experience pain and exhaustion and elation and incredulity, where the real adventure begins...where our lives really will change forever...

My Birthing Story: The Shorter Version

2009-05-08T13:12:00.007-04:00

So after a few weeks of settling into my new role as a mother, I finally am writing up my birthing story. I will have a more detailed story in parts coming soon, but here is my short—or I should really say—shorter version.

On Tuesday, April 14, 2009, after finishing up our taxes, my 39 week belly shots, and a few other miscellaneous “to do” items, I go to bed around midnight. Two hours later, I wake up to go to the bathroom, and my water breaks! I am having contractions, but very erratic, so I am not even sure if they are “real” or just Braxton hicks. In any case, Mike and I head to the hospital at 3:30am, and en route, my contractions start getting much more intense, and I know I am in true labor.

We arrive at Stamford Hospital a little before 4am. It is dark, rainy, and still a very surreal experience. From 4am-10am, my contractions grow much more intense and I dilate from 2cm when I arrive to almost 5cm around 10am. A bit before 10am, after staying in the shower for an hour, breathing through each contraction, feeling intense pain and “sick,” I decide I will get an epidural.

Around 10am, the anesthesiologist administers the epidural and I find relief from my contractions for about 10 or 15 minutes. I am surprised because I can feel my uterus hardening, but I feel no pain! Then, after this initial period of relief, I start to feel my feet again. “This is normal,” the nurse tells me. Then I start feeling my legs, my butt, and most of all, feeling my contractions. They are more painful than they were before the epidural. “This is not normal,” the nurse tells me. She calls for the Resident, who checks me and informs me that in less than an hour, I have dilated to 10cm!

My doctor arrives (I have seen him several times this morning), tells me to start pushing, and from 11am to 12:56pm, I push through every single contraction, taking no breaks (I find it is less painful to be pushing than sitting through contractions anyway). The epidural is not working at all at this point. The nurse tells me this is because I have dilated so quickly (perhaps it also has to do with the fact that some liquid was coming down my back and the anesthesiologist has to come back to “fix” it). In any case, after a bit of figuring out what I’m doing, I feel very in control of my pushing and go with the rise and fall of each contraction. Mike, our doula, several nurses, my OB, the resident doctor, and a student nurse all become my cheering squad, giving great support and creating a fun, energetic vibe to the room.

Finally, the doctor tells me, “You’re going to be a mother with this next push!” And soon our little baby boy is born! He is plopped on my belly and he is healthy, very strong, and expressive. I still cannot grasp that this baby is really ours--but Mike and I are instantly in love with our son.

It is an amazing experience—from start to finish, and while not everything turned out as I’d planned (I went into labor a week early when I was still loving being pregnant and looking forward to a weekend of no plans; my water broke first so I had to go to the hospital sooner; I got less than 2 hours of sleep; the epidural didn’t work), in the end, I would not have wanted anything to have gone differently. I am glad I went into labor a week early, as it gave me a chance to recover before my allergies became too serious (sneezing incessantly after giving birth would not be comfortable). It was incredible to feel a non-medicated birth, which was something I was interested in originally anyway. And Mike and I did accomplish all the items we needed to, albeit only hours before going into labor, before the baby was born. Our baby was ready and I thank God that everything went as smoothly as it did.

Stay tuned for more lengthy details (Is that possible? Yes, it is! This is the fast typist writer here, remember!)! Once again, thanks to all for your love and support through this amazing pregnancy, labor and delivery!

Week 40...but not really...Dylan is over a week old!

2009-04-24T16:30:00.003-04:00

So here is my brave belly shot at 40 weeks...

While I still have a belly, something is missing...

Yes, after my post written at 2:30am last Wednesday, Mike and I headed to Stamford Hospital, I had a decent labor (active labor went by really fast, just as my OB predicted), and after almost 2 hours of pushing (the part I was most scared of, but turned out to be pretty amazing, albeit long), our beautiful baby boy was born!

Dylan was born a week early (so we have some winners on the guess-the-birthdate-post!) on April 15 at 12:56pm. He was 7 pounds 13 oz and 19 inches long--strong and healthy (although a bit jaundiced in this picture). I will go into details soon in another post, but I had to get something up before too much time passed.

So here are a few pictures in the meantime from when Dylan was only a few hours old, and I will post again soon about my birthing experience!

Pregnancy Week 39: It's happening...!

2009-04-15T02:51:00.002-04:00

Well, my water just broke! I don't know if I'm officially in labor yet or not, but my doctor wants me to go to get checked out at the hospital. So on with the adventure...and on about 1 1/2 hours sleep...

(This picture was taken for 39 weeks--just hours before my water broke--and yes, I was in labor!)

39 Week Doctor Appointment (and don't forget to cast your vote!)

2009-04-13T20:30:00.000-04:00

This morning, I have my 12th OB appointment. Tomorrow, Tuesday, I am officially 1 week from my due date, so I am 38 weeks, 6 days pregnant today.

Mike just posted yesterday about milestones during these past 9 months, moments where the reality of what exactly we're doing here, starts to set in. And today is another one to add to the list!

When Mike and I are in the car on the way to the doctor's, I ask him, "Do you think I'm dilated at all yet?"

"I don't know," he says. "Maybe. Do you?"

"No," I say. "Not yet."

I say this because this is my conservative guess. But inside, I am thinking, "Maybe I am!" But I don't want to say this out loud. So I don't.

The doctor seems refreshed from his vacation and I ask if any of his patients went into labor last week while he was gone. "No," he says. "But I have four who have waited for me and should go this week!"

And while I am not one of the slotted women he's speaking of at this point...

Today, he tells me that he can feel the baby's head again, very low, even lower than before ("You can actually feel the head?" I ask. "Yup."), and again stresses that he is quite surprised I am not complaining about how I feel. I throw him a bone, "Well, I do feel him wiggling a lot down there. And when I pee, I feel a lot of pressure, like the baby is dropping lower and that can be really uncomfortable." He's not too impressed by this 'complaint.' "Yes, but most women would be complaining constantly." So either, I have become accustomed to feeling how I do, or I am lucky.

He also informs me that I am about 1 cm dilated and 80% effaced, and based on this, the descended head, and a few other pregnancy details, he says, "We'll schedule you for another appointment a week from today--but I don't think you'll need it."

WHAT??

Meaning...I'll have the baby BEFORE Monday? But Monday isn't even my due date yet! My due date is...well, Tuesday...

"Really?" I ask him smiling with giddiness.

"I think so. Your uterus is only measuring 37 cm, but it seems to be about a cm behind each week, and it's still growing, so I'm not too concerned about that. I think you have a good chance of having the baby in less than a week."

He also stresses, "When your contractions get to be about 5 minutes apart, definitely call me, and get to the hospital. Don't try to be a hero and stay at home longer, because I have a feeling once you get to 3 cm or so, your labor is going to progress very quickly."

"Really?" I say again--again, all smiles.

"Yup. And you don't need to give Mike a heart attack in the car, trying to race to the hospital. I really think you'll have a short labor. I couldn't have colored a better pregnancy."

So...when Mike and I leave the appointment, we both are in a mild state of...childlike excitement. This is real. This is happening. And this is happening soon. I will be happy if we have the weekend together, pre-baby, as Mike has Friday-Sunday off, and we have no plans for the first time in months. But if the baby decides to enter the world during the weekend...well, that will be the biggest event we have had ever on a weekend! And we won't even have to cancel plans--

Since the appointment, the baby has been moving and jumping and popping, kicking, gallumping, shaking, in all areas of my belly. I look down and it almost never stops moving (except for my frequent braxton hicks contractions, when the uterus gets rock hard and the baby doesn't move much or at all). He was relatively calm at the appointment (heartbeat 120 or so, which is normal, as the heartbeat gets lower as the pregnancy goes on), but perhaps he got excited by someone touching his head, or he's just reminding me that he's here, energetic, alert. He's still been very active regardless, but today is even stronger and more constant.

So--those of you who have not yet voted on the due date, feel free to check out the poll on the right hand side. So far, only one person has posted an actual guess at a due date, so she is the forerunner for the possible prize! If you want to make it a healthy competition, leave your guess as a comment on this post.

Stages of Reality Acknowledgement

2009-04-12T18:48:00.005-04:00

[by Mike]

It's funny how with each incremental "component" that makes up the world in which the baby will reside is added to the universe of "baby things" in our apartment, the mental "realization thermometer" that's measuring degrees of understanding/acknowledgement in our heads goes up another degree.

(Strunk and White, the mini "writing" guide, hates long sentences like that last one. So do I. Sorry. I'll try something else...)

The idea of a baby being present in our lives was an elusive one to grasp. With every concrete baby-related object added to our stockpile, and every significant milestone in the baby's development, the whole "we're-going-to-be-parents" thing became more and more real.

Here are some of the biggest eye-openers...events that confirmed, "Yup, we're having a baby!":

* Pregnancy Test. Of course, that was HUGE. It's kind of the "kickoff" for everything that follows. At this point, this is more of a "We're having a baby!" (I'm really writing more about things after the actual "news" is delievered...but had to include this since it's pretty, er, critical.)

* First Sonogram (5 weeks, 8/28). The tests are confirmed by a professional and his fancy-shmancy machines. And we have our first baby photo! (Of our spec-sized baby.) Now it's more of a "Yup, we're having a baby!"

* Second Sonogram. "Look, the mini-doughnut turned into a small brine shrimp! Yup, we're having a baby!" It has a HEAD! Thoughts are sent spinning, as the little person begins to take shape... The realization that "someone" is actually growing in Tara's little womb-home hits home.

* Telling the Family. Now it comes up in conversation more, and our sphere of family and friends joins our little pre-baby world...and it begins to feel like a part of the family. Two individual parents' thoughts grow and spread into other's...

* Third Sonogram. "It's a BOY!! And look, HE's raising his fist up as a sign of strength and power! Omigosh, we're having a baby!" Wow. What a moment. At this point, our fuzzy thought clouds begin to clear up as "boy" stereotypes enter our minds...GI Joe, not Barbie; rough housing, not "house"; blue things, not pink things; short hair, not long hair; and the hundreds of other things that stream through daydreams about girls and boys and the two vastly different parenting experiences they represent.

* The baby mattress. After we first registered for baby shower gifts, one of the first "big" gifts we received was the crib mattress (thanks, Saurabh!). Here, we were staring at what the baby would actually be "sleeping" in for quite a while. "WOW. There's actually going to be a tiny, little baby in that thing. Omigosh!" It'll be his home, where he'll cry, sleep, poop, giggle, and chill for a good chunk of "babyhood". At this point, more and more solid, concrete evidence of the baby's upcoming arrival start coming in.

* The baby himself. Kicking and punching, bungee jumping, hiccuping, dancing around. "There is definitely something or someone moving in that belly of yours. Holy cow, we're totally having a baby!!" I couldn't believe the first time I felt him move. It's kind of like, now HE realizes what's about to come too, and is letting us know. We're all in on it, now.

* The stroller and car seat. "WOW. The baby's going to be chillin' 'n' riding around in this thing!" The space is sized, sculpted, and framed specifically for a little baby. There's no denying it, a baby's definitely on its way. It'll be the baby's replacement-travel-womb after birth. Cool.

* Baby clothes. Tiny shoes with "pretend" laces. Miniature versions of things a full-size guy might wear. A Yankees cap. A onesy. "Holy cow, we're having a baby!"

* The calendar. "What? There are less than 10 weeks left until the baby arrives? Holy smokes, that was fast! I can count that on my toes..!"

* The weekend. This is what hit me yesterday and today. "Omigosh, the baby's gonna be here any DAY. He's practically HERE. Today we had lunch with my parents. Next Sunday, it's possible we might be changing baby diapers!" The due date is still 9 days away, but that really isn't much... My next chiropractor appointment is 8 days away...yeesh!

We're getting incredibly giddy and excited. Tara's birthday is today, and she just turned 32. That will forever be a big age number in our minds, as that'll be the one she'll forever remember as having first become a mother...

"Omigosh, Tara, you're going to be a MOM, in like, DAYS!!!!"

Unbelievable. And so exciting! I'm really getting to the point where I can't wait for him to arrive...and that feeling will get a lot stronger over the next few days. (And that's not just because of the paternity leave I'll get.)

-M

Week 38: Time, time, time...

2009-04-10T10:45:00.002-04:00

From the beginning of my pregnancy, people have been telling me to enjoy every moment--minus the morning sickness, backaches, mood swings etc. And I have been blessed enough to be able to sail through these 9 months with hardly any of these pregnancy "side effects" that discourage people from enjoying the process. I was talking with my friend the other day, mother to 3 girls, and she tells me her labor for her first child was only around 6 hours and she pushed for maybe 15 minutes (shorter for each subsequent). I tell her she is good at delivering babies! She has always wanted children, comes from a hearty family of farmers, and she is a sensible person--she just seems like she would be good at having babies. I tell her I don't know how I will be in labor and delivery, but I am good at being pregnant.

When people tell me to enjoy every moment, they often follow that up with, "Really take advantage of this time you have where you can do things for yourself. It's the last time you have to be selfish, or for it to be just you and Mike."

And I try.

I have been extremely active these past nine months. I have had a social calendar which is filled to the brim on weekends, and many weekdays/nights (much to Mike's chagrin at times). I continued working for most of my pregnancy, I taught a playwriting class, I taught a theatre class, I have had a few of my plays performed (actually, my full length play, Free Space, opens tonight in Alaska!). I have visited family and planned several large parties. The last few months, in particular, I have taken advantage of seeing plays in NYC, traveling to the Caribbean with my husband, going out to movies and dinners, and nurturing friendships. I feel as though I have been sucking at the marrow of life, as they say, to eek all that I can out of my pre-baby days.

Besides taking advantage of doing things without an infant attached to my hip, people also tell me, "Savor the pregnancy itself. Time goes by so quickly. Before you know it..."

My friend, mother to 4 children, wrote me an email a few months ago about this and puts it well:
"Today, I think back to the baby years, the toddler years, the days when all it seemed I ever got to 'cook' was Cheerios and rice cereal, and I somehow don't remember how I got to this place? How did my babies change and grow up so quickly? O. is turning 12 this spring and my 'baby' will turn 6. I can't believe the boys are already 8 & 10. Where did the years go? My baby girl (O) is closer to driving cars and getting married than she is to her diaper days now. It is so strange and everyone tells you that 'it goes by so quickly' and you nod and say 'yeah, it does' and you think you understand what they are saying when they encourage you to 'enjoy it now; while you can; while they're babies' and you can't wait until they can walk or talk or tell you what they want and before you know it, they're sharing shoes with you and wondering when you're going to the mall next....Of course, each moment is precious..."

And I think about this, and there is no way I can understand because I do not yet have the experience of years...Although, even now, a few months ago, Mike shares with me how sad he is that our child is going to grow up, go to college, get married, and leave us some day. I tell him to "Stop saying that--you're making me sad too!" So yes, we are thinking in advance already, then looking back in imaginary-hindsight!

Experience or not, I do know, however, that I want to savor each moment, but I also know, there is no way to slow down time.

Take this pregnancy, for instance, as I do have the insight of looking back on 9 months. I have tried to savor each moment. I write in this blog. Mike takes pictures of my belly. We write messages in a baby bottle to our womb baby. We record videos of major events or baby-related activities. We enjoy several showers, feeling the love and support of friends and relatives for our growing family. We read about babies, pregnancy, and attend classes. We sing songs to the baby; Mike writes a song for the baby. We feel our little guy move through my belly, talk to him, coddle him...I really do feel like we are savoring the pregnancy. We are trying to preserve moments, and by preserving, hopefully remembering, and by remembering, hopefully keeping these moments with us and hopefully...slowing down time...

But it does not work this way.

We do preserve and try to remember. But it does not slow down time. In fact, I feel it advances time. I have spoken to many mothers who say their pregnancies seem to have lasted forever. When I am 15 weeks pregnant, one of our friends is 7 months pregnant and she says, "I can't even remember what it was like to be 15 weeks pregnant! That seems sooo long ago!" I wonder if I will feel like that at 7 months pregnant.

But now, at almost 9 months pregnant, 15 weeks pregnant still does not seem that long ago to me.

Others say the last month or two goes by slowly. "I couldn't wait to get the baby out of me!" Or "I was so bored!" Even baby websites give ways to encourage labor because, "By the time you're 39 weeks pregnant and within spitting distance of your due date, you're probably willing to do or eat anything to get to that million-dollar prize...more quickly."

But my last month has been busier than ever. Time is racing by like a rocket ship. I want it to slow down. I keep waiting for it to slow down.

The other day, I mention to my friend (the one who is "good at" delivery), "I know this may sound naive, but I wonder if I'll actually have more time to read and watch a movie and relax once I have the baby...I have been running around so much right now, I don't feel I've had the time to do that."

"I don't think it sounds naive," she tells me. "Infants sleep around 18 hours a day. And you'll be nursing a lot when he's awake. You probably will have more time to sit and watch a movie or read a book."

I also know that I am running on a crazy sort of adrenaline right now, which has surprisingly sustained me for 9 months, but it can't go on forever. I still am not sleeping well. This past Monday night, I get 5 hours and 45 minuts of sleep without getting up and realize that is more sleep than I've had my whole pregnancy, and probably for a few months before, as well. Of course, it has not lasted. Last night, I get up, literally, over 10 times in the night. And yet, I am awake by 6:30 every morning, ready to start the day. Yesterday, I work on my "to do" list from 8am to 9pm, almost nonstop and while enjoying 30 Rock and The Office, my body is impatient to start the next day.

The month before my wedding, I was living at my parents' house and not sleeping or eating much at that time, due to excitement/anxiety. Even though I would have only a few hours of sleep a night, I constantly felt wired, buzzed, with occasional bouts of anxiety and stress. I would wake up very early, eyes instantly wide open, completely awake, and ready to work on my next wedding project. But once I finally completed my vows the night before the wedding, and lay my head down to sleep...I relaxed. My part was almost complete.

When I woke up in the morning, I realized I'd had more sleep that night than in months. But this morning, when I woke up, my eyes did not shoot open. I did not feel wired, buzzed, alert. I was tired. I was dragging my feet. I wanted to go back to bed.

Of course, I perked up as the day went on, but that sense of relaxation that I had been missing all those pre-wedding weeks finally came to visit me when I knew there was not much else left for me to do--even though ironically, I was now finally on the day of the most excitement, the day all the preparation had been for. There was no need to be in my heightened stated of awareness, that extra adrenaline to make sure I completed all I needed to. I just needed to participate, love my friends, family, my husband...and that was it.

Thankfully, that day did slow down, seeming longer than most previous, and I was blessed to actually remember that day, as well.

Perhaps those days are to come. Maybe I will finish my "to do" list this weekend and have one week before my due date to sink into slow motion (although I do have social plans for almost every day next week...)...Or perhaps this will come post-baby, when I have done my part to make it to that wonderful state of finally having my little baby boy in my arms.

Or perhaps this will not come. And perhaps I may not want it to come. I don't know. That is the exciting thing about not having the experience to look back on yet...it is all a mystery to me, an adventure...

So I guess we'll just have to see where the infant car seat takes us!

Womb Baby Movements and their Meanings...

2009-04-06T13:25:00.003-04:00

Our little womb baby has been very active right from the start. At 17 1/2 weeks, I was first able to feel the baby move from the outside, and at 18 1/2 weeks, Mike felt him move for the first time. From then on, he has been fairly consistent, with his movements growing stronger and more frequent. Even though the baby movements are supposed to be slowing down at this point, due to the fact that there is less room in the womb, I have not noticed this yet with my little guy, although every now and then I will notice a different sort of movement, or realize he hasn't moved in a way he used to for a while.

So I have put together a little list of common movements I can think of and what might be their meanings. Of course, I can feel a movement one day and say, "Oh, he's scared by that loud sound!" And then feel the same movement the next day and say, "Aw, he is so happy to hear your voice, Mike!" And I genuinely feel that the same movement means different things at different times.

I also have the ability to "call the baby" over to me, as Mike and I say. If I put my hand on my belly, within 30 seconds (usually much less), the baby will start moving right under me. I interpret that to mean that the baby comes to me, loves me, and wants to be close to me. Of course, it could mean that the baby wants to push me away or that I'm blocking his light! And there have been times when I feel the baby does want me to move. This usually happens when I am resting my arms on my belly somehow. The baby will sort of kick at the arm in a hard way, and I feel he's trying to tell me to move my arm. So I do, and then he calms down.

I realize that I do not actually know what any of these movements mean, but if anyone would have an idea, it would be the mother, right? Right now, the baby and I are so close--we are sharing the same body after all! I don't know why I attribute certain meanings at certain times, but I do know that I feel those explanations at the moment, and that's all I can say. Having said that, most of the time, I have no idea what the movements mean, or I believe the movements just mean that he is moving because that's what humans do!

First off, here is a short video of the baby moving. This is from a month ago, at Week 34. He moves in a similar way still, although the body parts look bigger now. Anyway, check it out if it doesn't freak you out!

And here are his main movements and some of the meanings I have placed on them:

The Womb Baby Wave: He'll start on one end of my belly and glide across it to the other end, like a little ocean wave. This is a fun one because it's very easy to see if you stare at my belly.

The Womb Baby Punch/Kick: He may jab me in the ribs, which might be slightly less than a few weeks ago. Occasionally, he has startled me so much, by being so high in my ribs that it almost takes my breath away for a second. But most of the time, his legs just flutter up there.
--He kicks or punches in other areas of my belly. I have read that kicks should be diminished at this point, and replaced with more gentle movement, since there isn't as much room to kick. He still seems pretty capable of walloping a good punch, but I do think this has diminished some.

The Womb Baby Quick Stretch: This is interesting because I will feel the same movement at the exact same time on the left side and the right side. It's as though he is stretching out his body as much as he can and jabbing me with his elbow on one side and his legs or knees on the other. This is a fast stretch, almost like a kick.

The Womb Baby Slow Stretch: This is fun because the baby will push out one body part and simply hold it there. I can see the little round ball or long rectangular shape pushing out the skin on my belly. Sometimes I hold the little body part with my fingers or gently rub it. I think he's just stretching and holding the position for a beat before bringing the body part back in the womb more.

The Womb Baby Cuddle: I can have my hand on my belly and a big part of the baby (the back or butt) will rub right into the palm of my hand. I feel like he is trying to cuddle with me, as my hand envelopes him. He'll do this for a little while, sort of pushing up into me, holding it, releasing, then pushing up into me again gently.

The Womb Baby Flutter/Swirl: The baby will make lots of little calm flutters or swirling type movements. These will be constant, sometimes for well over an hour. I can have my hand on my side, feeling him, maybe watching tv or something. And he will continue to make lots of these tiny rhythmic movements as though a little body part is swaying to music, or as though I were feeling his back rise and fall when breathing.

The Womb Baby Shake: Every now and then, the baby will feel as though he is literally shaking through my belly. Like a dog "shaking off" after he comes in from the rain. I'm not sure what this means.

The Womb Baby Jump: Occasionally, the baby will be fairly calm, then suddenly make a huge jump. It doesn't feel as though a small body part is kicking me, but rather his whole body is jumping or twitching. Two examples:
1) A little personal, but hey. A couple weeks ago, Mike slaps me on the butt and suddenly, the baby jumps on all sides of my belly. "Do it again!" I tell Mike, and he puts one hand on my belly and slaps my butt again. The baby jumps again instantly. I need to see it a third time to make it scientific, so I tell him, "Do it one more time!" He does, and again, the baby immediately jumps. Of course, then I feel bad and coddle the womb baby, gently touching where his body is and telling him sweetly that "it's okay. We were just playing." My poor baby at the whims of his curious parents! In this case, the meaning seems clear--he is startled by an outside force, so he jumps.
2) The baby will be calm, not moving at all. I think he's asleep, then suddenly, he'll make a big jump, a jolt almost, then I'll feel tiny movements for a minute or so, then it seems he settles down and is still again. I think this is the baby sleeping, then having one of those sleeping-twitches, which wakes him up. He stirs for a minute, then falls back asleep. Mike does this a lot, so I think he is taking after him. It's cute.

The Womb Baby Hiccups: He tends to get the hiccups several times a day. For the past two months (since when he probably turned), I have been feeling them originate from the same spot--very low on my left side, where his back begins from his head. It is cute because I can see the hiccups when I look at my belly, and funny to imagine he is doing that. This started around Week 28 and has been extremely consistent since then. It feels like a little irregular heartbeat. Sometimes this happens for no apparent reason, sometimes after I eat, and sometimes when he is startled (like a gun shot in a play, or people in a play or movie yelling). His hiccups usually last at least 10 minutes each time. Sometimes, I sing to him, and it will calm him down for 30 seconds or so, but then they will start up again (sometimes less frequent though).

The Womb Baby Jerks: This is very common. He will sort of jerk his body parts around in a haphazard sort of way. It's not smooth, but it's as though he keeps getting his foot caught on something and then just keeps plugging away, trying to move the body part somewhere else.

The Womb Baby Snap: I don't know how to really describe this other than, it feels like the baby is snapping something inside of me, and that maybe there is a bubble of water around the snapping feeling, or that he rolls a body part then it sort of "clicks." Mike has noticed this too and called it "snapping" first, so I think that is the closest way I can describe it.

The Womb Baby Flip: This is one the baby has not done in several months (there isn't enough room for it now). But he used to make a giant movement, all across my belly. It felt like a little sudden earthquake. I always imagined it was the baby flipping his whole body over, as it felt like someone plopping down into bed and shaking the whole bed.

The Womb Baby Rest: He is quiet and still sometimes. There are days when I feel as though he's moving nonstop for 10 hours straight, but other days, I find he rests more frequently (still more active than I feel a lot of babies are). At night, he will move a great deal once I lie down (and more so if I am on my right side). Once I fall asleep though, he seems to rest, as well. When I wake up (which is very frequent in the night), I will notice that he is still. I'll then get up to go to the bathroom or eat or whatever, trying to make as little movement as possible. When I return to bed, I must continue to lie on my left side, and 70% of the time, I will not wake the baby up, and we'll lie there again. Sometimes, I will wake him up, and then he'll squirm for a few minutes to an hour. However, if I come back to bed and switch to lying on my right side, 90% of the time, he will wake up and start squirming and moving until I move back onto my left side. I feel bad that I am the one waking him up!

People say that when the baby is born and you hold him, you can often feel the same movements that he was making in the womb, and realize what they are now. I'm not sure how this works exactly, as the baby is upside down in my womb, but I am excited to give it a try (and hold him...)!

37 Week Prenatal Doctor's Appointment

2009-04-03T14:33:00.002-04:00

Mike and I attend my 11th prenatal OB appointment today, and all is well. Mike is peppy and energetic, so as to dissuade any negative thoughts the doctor may have had with Mike's little catnap at the last visit. And I'm sure the doctor was excited to be working his final day before his vacation to Key West!

Today, he does an ultrasound to take measurements of the baby. We haven't seen the baby on the screen in 17 weeks, and naturally, he is quite a bit bigger now! We can only recognize little bits of him at a time, but see his head, his spine, some fingers, his femur, his back, his neck, and his testicles ("You do know what sex the baby is, right?" The doctor asks before pointing this out. Phew! He's still a boy! Good news, since I have washed all the boy baby clothes and put them away already!)

It's neat to learn exactly how the baby is positioned in my belly, although our previous guess seems to be correct. His head is still very low, and when the doctor does a cervical exam, he even says, "I'm surprised you're not more uncomfortable given how low the head is in your pelvis." And of course, I do feel the baby down there, occasionally pressure at different points and lots of squirming, but I'm fairly used to it at this point, so I don't think of it. He emphasizes how it is great the baby's head is this low already in preparation for delivery.

The baby's back is on the left side, as it has been for at least a month or so (the nurse at our birthing class told me that is where his back was when she felt my belly as a demonstration for something), and this is where I feel the hiccups the strongest--on the left lower side of my belly. The butt and testicles are very high between my ribs (good to know!), and his knees/feet are on my right side, which is where I feel the most movement, and probably why the baby squirms like crazy when I lie on my right side.

He assures me that he expects I have a couple more weeks to go. Later, I tell Mike, "I assume we have a couple more weeks to go! I'm still 3 weeks from my due date! Actually, I'm surprised he didn't say 'a few weeks' instead of 'a couple weeks!'" Then I realize, I am only 2 1/2 weeks from my due date...so 'a couple weeks' is becoming more accurate...

After taking the measurements of the baby, he says the calculations bring my baby's weight to 7 pounds 4 oz, with a margin of error of 1 pound. I am surprised since last week, the doctor guessed the baby would be between 6 and 7 pounds at delivery, based on my size, and now the computer is estimating he is 7 pounds 4 oz at present! The doctor says, "Yes, you're hiding him in there quite well." But he points out the baby is in the 55th percentile, so he is still just about average.

We go over my simple birthing preferences, ask a few more questions, and we are off. I won't see him next week, as he's on vacation, but will the following Monday. It is hard to believe that when I see him next, I will be just 1 day shy of 39 weeks!

Week 37: The countdown is on...

2009-04-02T14:13:00.007-04:00

So my little ticker at the top of my blog says I have 19 days to go until my due date. How the number managed to sneak into the teens is beyond me...I have been receiving many emails lately of friends checking in on me, and giving me encouragement that the last month drags on, but the baby will be here before I know it...I almost wish I felt that way, but the last month (and the whole pregnancy, to be honest) has flown by! I still have so many things to do that I feel I will be lucky if I have one bored day before the baby comes...I hope I get one bored day! I guess we shall see...it might depend also if I go into labor early, on time, or late...

Speaking of which--cast your vote on my due date poll to the right! And feel free to leave comments on this entry of what exact day you think the baby will be born on. If you are right, you just might receive a prize of some sort...As for me? I feel the baby is going to come fairly on time. Everything seems to be progresses exactly on track for the week I'm in, so I am just assuming the baby will come around his scheduled due date. Again, we shall see...

(Man, I am really overusing the ellipsis in this entry!)

One of the fun things I've done is choose a "coming home" outfit for the baby--an adorable outfit from Mike's family and a cute baby bunting my mom made (we'll see how cold it is). We also have several beautiful blankets to choose from, a car seat swaddler (from my sister-in-law), a baby book (from my parents), and a handprint book (from friends). The nurses have mentioned several times to bring a baby book and they will happily put the baby's prints into it.

Okay, back to my "to do" list...

Pregnancy Week 36: Classes, Doulas, Pediatrician, Life Insurance, and Nesting--oh my!

2009-03-30T16:00:00.003-04:00

Yes, another list and "oh my" post! Tomorrow begins Week 37, so I figured I should catch up on this past week before it disappears! Week 36 is busy, but we accomplish a few big items on the ever-mounting "to do" list, which feels really, really good.

BREASTFEEDING CLASS
We attend a breastfeeding class last Tuesday, which is interesting. I have read some about breast feeding, but more in regards to keeping your baby on a semblance of a schedule, than the actual process of creating a good "latch-on" etc. So it is good for Mike and me to see what the experience might be like.

DOCTORS
We also have an OB appointment last Wednesday and a pediatrician interview the following Monday (today). The pediatrician is very warm, thorough, friendly, has a great demeanor and seems very smart and current. The practice has 4 doctors, with appointments 7 days a week, if needed. They have separate "well" and "sick" waiting rooms and exam rooms, which is a huge plus. The office is very modern and attractive, in a building by a marina; there are boats in the parking lot and you can see the water from the window. I think we will choose this office as our baby's pediatrician for now. They are staff at the hospital I'm delivering at in Connecticut (and I need to choose one), but after that, we may check out a few other pediatricians closer to where we live. This office is only about 15 minutes from our place (with no traffic), but if we hit traffic, it could be a lot longer, and there is a large practice less than 5 minutes from our apartment that someone recommended, so we shall see...

On another note, the pediatrician asks who my OB is and when I tell him, he informs me that this doctor is known as one of the best ob/gyns in the area. He is very knowledgeable, thorough, attentive with patients, and people come from as far as Buffalo and Albany to see him for periodic exams and procedures. I have met a few other people who have the same OB as I do at classes, and they share this sentiment, but it feels good to hear this from another doctor.

LIFE INSURANCE
We also finally have life insurance! I have been begging Mike to get this since well before we conceived, and it has taken a while, but finally, it is almost complete. We have met with the agent, given the checks (so we are technically covered), and I take my medical exam last Thursday. Mike will have his medical exam this Friday. Since Mike's cholesterol is naturally high, he has been careful to limit (or eliminate) his intake of junk food, milk, cheese, saturated fat, and increase his intake of oatmeal, flax seed, fish oil. He successfully lowered his cholesterol by around 40 points at his last doctor's visit, so hopefully he is able to keep that up for his insurance exam.

INFANT CPR
I call to sign up for an infant CPR class, but after speaking with the hospital coordinator, she convinces me to purchase an Infant CPR Kit instead. She says the class is really geared toward people who need their certification for jobs, and for a much lower cost, I can purchase the kit, which includes a dvd, a blow up baby with lungs, and a booklet. She also points out that I can review the information on the dvd at any time, and will not have to remember everything from the class. I am relieved to have this option, as another pregnant friend recently complained that the Infant CPR class was the most boring class she'd ever been to. So when this arrives, Mike and I can learn together, and if we have questions, we can ask the hospital staff or our pediatrician.

NESTING
On Friday, Mike puts together the baby dresser/changing table while I am away and this sets into motion many things. When I return home, we have 15 minutes before we are to leave to meet friends for dinner. During that time, we arrange and rearrange the furniture in the baby room until we are fairly satisfied. We grab a carpet that has been stored in our closet since we moved, and throw that on the floor. I set up the lamp which matches the crib bedding (which I also receive just this week). It is beginning to look like a baby room...

The next day, I pull out all the 0-3 and 3-6 month clothing we have received and we start washing it. My friend visits, and we fold and begin putting it in the dresser. As the weekend continues, I attach the matching diaper stacker to crib, put all the books we have received in a baby basket, attach the crib mobile (a cool Cirque du Soleil one my aunt gave us), open all the toys and put them in a tub, and sort through the bins we have been storing of various baby items and gifts (like a bottle warmer, baby carrier, blankets etc). I have recently cleaned out the baby room closet, reorganized, consolidated, and thrown out items, clearing shelving for baby supplies. Now I am able to start putting items in the shelves and cases.

Mike does all the wash (carrying the baskets outside and down the steps, into the locked basement), puts up hooks in the baby's room, screws in the changing pad to the dresser, carries bins up and down from the outside storage shack for me. He is so helpful! I read recently that fathers often have an urge to "nest", as well, organizing things they never would have thought about previously. Mike admits he does not feel the urge to nest in the least (and I don't see that desire in him either), but he is a good sport for helping me out, and he also is getting more excited as the room takes on a true baby shape.

DOULAS
We continue to interview doulas. Since we have switched to interviewing non-certified doulas, I find I connect more with the women. I think we were limited, by price, to the certified doulas we could meet, and now that price is not as much of an issue (since they cannot charge what the certified doulas charge), we have been able to see many doulas. I believe we have finally found one that we will offer the "position" to (it sounds weird to say "position"--I'm not sure what else to say--offer the "experience" or "the birth" to?). She is young and I will be only her second birth, but at this point, I don't feel I need a super experienced doula, and her enthusiasm seems a big plus. It will be a relief to have the interview process end, and the doula-preparation process begin.

SOCIAL STUFF
Even though we keep thinking that we will slow down our activities, we find most of our "free time" is scheduled. I visit one of my pregnant friends who is due a week before I am. We go out to dinner with local friends. Another friend visits for the day; we plan to see Mike's father's art exhibit on Monday. Between the appointments and our activities, Mike and I still rarely find a night to ourselves. I am hoping that we will find more couple time as we enter April, but our weeks have a way of filling themselves up. We still have managed to see a movie or two at the theatre or at home, and plan to take advantage of our "Free Movie Tuesdays" now that we have completed our Tuesday evening classes. But again, I am grateful to have social things to do, even if we are kept busy. We will not be able to make plans so easily in a few weeks, so I am enjoying all the time we have with friends and family.

I also have completed the playmaking class I've been teaching, so this frees up one additional afternoon a week. I still need to create and edit the play we've worked on, but after that is done, I will have finished all "work" pre-baby.

IN SUMMARY
Again, with my "in summary!" As we approach the 3 week mark, things are definitely becoming more real. Mike and I are both getting excited to meet our little guy and hold him in our arms. I still can't say I'm "ready" to have the baby yet, but I am getting closer and closer. At least to "feeling" I might be ready!

36 Week Doctor's appointment

2009-03-25T23:00:00.001-04:00

This week, we see the OB for our 10th visit. He is kind and reassuring, as always, and again says how everything is progressing right on track. He does a Group B Strep test, as scheduled, and I tell him about a sharp shooting pain I have been feeling at my cervix lately, mostly at night. It is quick, but usually is followed by several more of these shooting pains. I imagine it is the baby moving, and my friend who is also pregnant tells me she is experiencing the same thing, and her midwives confirmed it is probably the head of the baby moving downward at the cervix.

My OB agrees it is probably the head, but he checks to make sure everything is fine (which it is). He says he can tell the head has descended further down into the pelvis. This is good because it indicates the head is not too big for my pelvis (phew!). He says everything is continuing to measure on track. I ask if he has a guess as to how big the baby would be at delivery. He guesses between 6 and 7 pounds, but tells me we can do an ultrasound at the next visit where he will take measurements.

I ask him more questions about delivery, his thoughts on forceps and the vacuum suction (which, after seeing it at our birthing class, is not as scary as I had imagined it from the name), episiotomies etc. The doctor is very thorough and answers each question with a thoughtful response. At one point, I look over at Mike and notice it appears he is squinting, or, more likely, fighting to keep his eyes open. I give him a "what are you doing look?" and his eyes open a bit more. The OB stays focused on my eyes and doesn't follow my gaze to see Mike's lids lowering, so I'm relieved at that.

After the appointment, I ask Mike, "Were you falling asleep in there?"

"Kind of," he admits.

"Mike!" I exclaim. "Don't you want to hear what he's saying?"

"Yeah, but he's so calm and was just talking... If he had a visual demonstration, like a movie or something, I could stay awake, but just his voice..."

I encourage Mike, as always, to go to bed earlier on work nights (he often stays up until 1 or 1:30am on weeknights). He says he will try, but this is a constant battle. I sleep miserably, waking up several times a night, and recently, even getting up to eat, take a shower, go to the bathroom. So needless to say, I spend hours each night not sleeping, but wish that I could. Mike is capable of sleeping very well through the night, but chooses to go to bed at a time so he cannot get the sleep he needs, even though he sleeps solidly. Physically, he remains healthy enough not to force him to go to bed "early", but mentally, he struggles when sleep deprivation takes over (which affects not only him, but coworkers and me, as well). I feel he is squandering a gift that I wish I had--the ability to sleep soundly. Yes, I am jealous of the pregnant women who say they are sleeping 8-10 hours a night and taking 1-2 hours naps. I am lucky to get 4 hours of sleep at any one time.

In any case, all is well with the baby and the pregnancy. Our OB is going to be out of town April 6-10, so I am a bit apprehensive with his leaving so close to my due date. Most first timers deliver on time or late, but I have been hearing many stories of first time moms delivering early. Because he's a single practice doctor, this is more of a concern for me. I have not met any of his backups. He insists his backups are both "reasonable" doctors and will respect my birthing preferences, that I am in good hands, should I go into labor early. However, I have really gotten to like and feel comfortable with my OB. It would be a shame to not have him at the last minute.

Regardless, I believe that, since everything in my pregnancy has been measuring at its appropriate week, I will go into labor very close to my due date. And until then, there is nothing I can do about it, so I am not losing any of my precious sleep over it.

Local Church Shower

2009-03-23T23:47:00.001-04:00

On Monday, I am blessed to have the local church in Harrison throw me and another pregnant parishioner a joint baby shower. Mike and I have been attending the church on and off for a few years and have found the community to be warm and friendly.

We have a potluck dinner, play a Scramble-Baby-Word game, mingle and have a yummy cake. One woman makes beautiful flower arrangements for each of us (I have a "boy" arrangement and the other woman, who is having a girl, has a pink "girl" arrangement). I am touched they offer this shower for me, and it is a wonderful opportunity to meet many of the ladies of the church.

Thank you to Liza and Carolyn and everyone else who attended and has made us feel a part of the community!

Bouteneff Family Baby Shower

2009-03-21T23:00:00.000-04:00

On Saturday (March 21), Mike's mother, and two of our awesome cousins throw us a wonderful family shower! We are greeted at the door by his mom who gives us a soccer ball to kick the fete off (yes, Mike has already figured out our son's soccer schedule), and we have a great time.

Pregnancy vibes abound, as two of his other cousins are also pregnant, and three cousins have toddlers, adding great energy to the mix (the pregnant gang is to the right--the others are 12 and 16 weeks).

Mike grew up with many extended cousins within only a few years of his age, making large family events fun social times. We are excited that the next generation is keeping the tradition going by procreating within a few year time-span as well!

At the shower, we play a fun game of "Nursery Rhyme Pictionary" (complete with large white flip board and colored markers), have delicious food, and a cute soccer ball cake for BBB (my mom keeps up the soccer theme, unknowingly, by making and sending along cute soccer overalls).

It is great to feel the love from the Bouteneff-related family, and we are blessed to have caring relatives so close to us! Thanks to all for your pictures, generosity, and love!

Week 35: Pregnancy Dreams...

2009-03-19T10:36:00.000-04:00

"They say" women who are pregnant have strange dreams. Of course, this is a bit redundant to me, as my dreams usually are strange and vivid. However, I have noticed a slight change in my style of dreams, and some seem clearly pregnancy-related.

One straight forward pregnancy-related dream occurred in my early months, and was of my having a fuzzy little baby bird as my child. The bird was adorable, and I saw Mike holding the blueish chick. I was overwhelmed with love for him and the baby bird.

But since then, the difference I have noticed in my dreams, from the second trimester on, has been that they often involve running, hiding, being chased, attacking things, things trying to attack me, sci-fi freaky happenings...It is not out of the ordinary for me to have dreams like these, but it seems that these dreams are the majority of what I remember at this point, which is unusual. I don't go to bed necessarily feeling anxious, but I suppose my subconscious may be trying to work some things out.

So, here are three different dreams that I have had. The first I had in December (around 24 weeks or so), the second was in February, I believe (around 31 weeks maybe) and the last was just this week, 35 weeks.

Dream 1: The Sci-Fi/Fire/Bomb Dream
I am on a school bus traveling with a friend from childhood (either Tiffany and Elisabeth--I forget now). The bus is eerie and we are quiet. We pass by a car whose driver has green glowing eyes and he stares at me, which chills me to the bone. This stranger is from the past or the future and it is not a good thing.

A tall thin man, the "leader" on board, stands at the front of the bus and turns around to face us. He mentions how each one of us has an object taped under our seats. My friend and I pull ours out. It's a sort of plastic thing--maybe a cross between a syringe and an all-inclusive resort bracelet. My friend or the leader pulls a tab on the object (I used to remember who did this, but can't anymore), and this creates a moment of panic among the bus riders. But the "leader" is happy. He throws the object out the window and somehow this causes a great bomb to explode ahead of us. A huge fire is roaring now across most of the road. There is a bridge ahead of us and our bus driver steps on the gas in the hopes that we will make it onto the bridge and pass through before the flames engulf the whole area. We do make it across, but just in time, and I look back to see all the destruction behind us. I am glad we are safe on the other side, but I am devastated at the chaos and death I see.

I wake up.

Dream 2: The Falling/Dying Dream
Mike and I are in our car driving along a narrow road which winds around a mountain cliff. There is a steep drop-off to our right down a long wide canyon. Mike is driving. All is fine until we realize we are going in the wrong direction. Since the road is narrow enough for only one car there is no way he can turn around on the road. He says he will back the car up. I do not want him to do this. The road is too narrow and curvy and we could fall off the road into the canyon. I want to continue straight until we are off the cliff, then turn around somewhere else later, even if it does mean we will waste more time. He says he knows what he's doing and even though I plead with him not to do it, he starts backing up the car.

I decide I will close my eyes, trust him, and not watch as I will only make him and me more anxious by turning around. Mike does a great job and we are staying on the road. Then he comes to a lookout point; the road juts out allowing for a space where he could back the car into and turn around, doing a 3-point turn. We are both so happy to find this spot!

Mike starts to back the car up and either he gives the car too much gas or the lookout point slopes downward, because before we know it, the car is slipping off the road and we are falling backwards, in the air, down the long canyon.

I instantly know three things: we are going to die, there is nothing we can do about it at this point, and that Mike must feel horrible. He is, understandably, upset--crying and feeling guilty. I hold his hand and say, "It doesn't matter anymore. I love you. I'm not mad at you and you didn't do anything wrong."

And while I am scared, I feel a sense of calmness, as I have instantly (I have only an instant after all!) resigned myself to my outcome. I then keep saying over and over, "I love you" to Mike and "God, forgive us" (not of falling, but I guess of all our sins since we were about to die). I am glad to be dying with Mike, and I just want him to feel better. The physical sensation of gravity pulling me down so quickly, backwards, with no resistance, is extremely real and vivid.

I wake up before we hit the bottom.

Dream 3: The Fighting a Powerful Creature Dream

I am outside in the woods, being chased by something. I am trying to hide but also trying to make my way somewhere safe. I step out from behind a tree and start walking cautiously. I then see a lioness walking toward me. She doesn't see me at first, so I stand still and quiet. I think I have a 50/50 chance of her not seeing me at all, so I am somewhat hopeful. But then she walks a bit closer and sees me. I try to act casual and start to walk calmly in the opposite direction, thinking that if she doesn't know I'm scared, she won't care about me. It seems to be working as she continues walking away from me.

As I glance at her again, even though I am almost in the clear, I am suddenly struck with terror as I imagine her attacking me. As if on cue, she turns around, looks at me again and starts running toward me. Instantly (again, I only have an instant!), my mind plays out a few options: I can run, but I know she's faster than I; I can climb up a tree, but I know she can climb up a tree better than I also; I can fight, but how could I beat a lioness; I can do nothing and hope she won't kill me.

I decide to fight. I pick up a stick next to me from the ground. It is not even a foot long, but it is going to be my weapon. The lioness charges at me and jumps up so her body now seems more like a bear or a human. I jab the stick into her chest and am surprised it actually pierces her. Her body is heavy and I use all my strength. I even feel the warmth from her body against my hand as the stick disappears into her flesh. I pull the stick out quickly and she jumps at me a few more times. Each time, I must jab the stick into her chest again.

I wake up.

So...these are a few of my pregnancy dreams...now...what do they mean?

Interpretations anyone?

Pregnancy Week 34: Doulas, Doctors, Family, Yoga, Cribs and Classes--oh my!

2009-03-15T21:55:00.006-04:00

Week 34 of my pregnancy has been a very eventful baby-related week for us, so I'll just jump right in before I bump into Week 35!

FAMILY:
My parents visit last weekend on their way back from a vacation in North Carolina. The weekend is low-key and fun; we enjoy games, make-your-own-pizza night at home, they try Indian food out for the first time (they liked it!), church and a day with Mike's parents, as well. Mike and I are happy that our parents have an opportunity to feel our son move and shake a little bit. It is strange to know that we will not see my parents again until after the baby is born--but equally strange to know that we will see them in just 6 weeks or so!

34 WEEK PRENATAL DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT:
On Thursday, we have my 9th doctor's visit. Our OB says my measurements are right on track, and it feels as though the baby has turned head-down now (yay! Hopefully I'm breaking the cycle of firstborn breech babies that my mom and her mom experienced). I mention the "hardening sensation" that I posted about in Week 33, as since then, several people have told me it sounds like Braxton Hicks. He immediately says, "Yes, it's common to experience Braxton Hicks contractions now, and you can expect they will become more frequent." I explain how sometimes I feel it only on one side, and he says that is quite possible. Apparently, my description to him of this sensation in the past ("I feel like I'm going to pass out and then my baby turns into a hard ball!") must not have been sufficient for him to diagnose it as such at that point!

I mention that we are interviewing doulas this week, and he encourages that decision. He says I am the perfect candidate for a natural birth (if I choose that), and he gives thorough advice on questions to ask the doula, emphasizing I should feel comfortable with her and she should do more than just simply hold my hand. He says he recently discovered how expensive doulas are in our area (the one doula he specifically mentions, I tell him, I spoke to, and she is $1500! We are not interviewing ones that expensive!), so he also points out that if the cost is too great, that with the support from the nurses, Mike, and my own body & self, I will do a great job and probably achieve my goal. He says he has a very good feeling about my labor and delivery.

Mike and I are both a little surprised he says this to me, but this sentiment, although the most non-scientific (it is his "feeling" after all), is the most encouraging of all. My sister-in-law once told me the same thing, and when I shared what she had told me with a yoga friend whom I don't see very often, this friend expressed a similar thought. "I wasn't going to say this, because I thought you might think I was crazy," she said, "but since you brought up what your sister-in-law told you, I feel comfortable sharing. I also have this strong feeling that your delivery will go very smoothly."

Of course, these are all feelings, and one cannot predict the future, but it does give me encouragement.

CRIB, ROCKER, DRESSER:
This week, we receive our rocker glider and ottoman (Thank you, Mom and Dad!), and our dresser and crib (Thank you, Nick and Olga--my parents-in-law!). Mike puts together all but the dresser so far, and he does a fantastic job! I cannot believe how big the furniture is (doesn't it seem like a crib should be small?), and I am so excited to see the baby room start to fill up!

CLASSES:
On Tuesday night, we attend our first class at Stamford Hospital (where I will be delivering). It is entitled "Basics of Infant Care," and while the teaching maternity nurse does show us how to bathe an infant and take care of the cord stump (what a great name for a body part--"cord stump"), she focuses mainly on what will happen to the baby while in their care at the hospital. We even learn that each baby will not only have a matching ID bracelet with the mother, but will also sport a security tag. If the baby is taken too close to an exit, an alarm will sound, all doors will immediately lock, and elevator buttons will not function. No baby snatchers in Stamford!

On Sunday, we attend an all day Child Birthing Class. This is informative, interesting, and probably warrants a separate post, so I shall save my thoughts for later!

DOULAS:
We interview doulas on Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday this week. They all offer similar services. They will come to our apartment for one or two prenatal visits, going over our birthing preferences, getting to know us, and showing us various labor management techniques. Once I reach the first stage of labor, I would call the doula, and she would come to our house when I am ready for her, supporting me during home labor. Once my labor progresses far enough, she would accompany us to the hospital and stay with us through labor and delivery, continuing to offer techniques, massage, encouragement, and advocate for my preferences. After delivery, the doula would remain for an hour or two ("If you're breast feeding, I'd stay to make sure you get that first 'latch-on'," they all tell me), then check in a week later for a post-natal visit to debrief the experience, and answer questions.

So far, I am not sure if any of the doulas are the perfect match for me, so we may interview a few more this week before we make our decision.

YOGA & SHOWER:

I have an excellent yoga class on Monday which helps to alleviate some of my lower back pain, and I must remember to keep using the poses that work my hip flexors. Then on Saturday, Gina (one of the owners at the yoga studio) and Megan (a friend and yoga teacher) throw me and Jaime (another friend and yoga teacher who is due 5 days before me) a joint baby shower. Megan has a great baby-photo guessing game, as well as crepe paper belly contest, and an ongoing clothespin "don't say the word 'baby'" game which she and I take very seriously! It is fun to see the yoga gang and receive their love and support. Thank you to all!!

(Guess whose baby is actually a balloon in the above picture?)

IN SUMMARY:
So do I really need an "in summary" for this post? I suppose ideally, I would be keeping up on all these events and posting separately during the week, but alas, my days and nights have continued to be busy (besides all the things I have mentioned in this post). Time is truly flying by...and no, I am not yet wishing that the baby "would just be out" of me yet! I still am loving having him in me! But the time is drawing near...

Pregnancy Week 33: Pregnancy and how I physically feel

2009-03-07T11:35:00.004-05:00

Since in this blog, I tend to focus mainly on my emotional feelings, events that happen, doctor's appointments, stories etc, I think it is time I give an update on how I am feeling physically. When people ask how I am feeling, I typically say, "I feel great! I've been lucky and have had a really amazing pregnancy so far." And that is completely true. I am blessed, and I have had an easy pregnancy compared to a lot of people. But obviously, I do not feel as I did before I was pregnant, so for the blog record, here is my list of physical aspects that are different since I became pregnant (mostly from the second trimester on--the first trimester, I barely felt any different):

1) Heartburn: I had this more in the second trimester than I do now, but occasionally, I still feel it. It is as though a pill is stuck in my chest and burns there. It usually passes after a few minutes to an hour though (and like I said, is pretty infrequent at this point). It seems to help when I breathe deeply, drink water, lift my hands over my head.

2) Acid Reflux: Yes, this pesky little thing has made its way into my life. This started toward the end of the second trimester and has continued into the third. I notice it especially when I eat "too much" (not necessarily too much by my old standard, but apparently too much to fit into my squashed stomach at one time), or if I drink a lot of acidic fruit juice. It is gross when it happens (maybe 1-3 times a day), but it is pretty short-lived, so I forget about it quickly (hence eating too much again and having it happen again! I'm like a fish.)

3) Lower back pain: This actually started for me in my first trimester. I initially noticed it when a few juice bar employees left the Yoga Studio I managed, and I was covering part of their shifts. I was standing for long periods of time, and after just a day or two of that, I suddenly had lower back pain (which I'd never had before in my life). A month or so later, we did replace the employees, and I did not work as much on my feet. This helped some, but from then on out, I had lower back pain when I would stand or walk for relatively short periods of time. Even in Antigua, where I was very relaxed, due to the amount of walking I did, my lower back hurt a great deal. It still hurts now, especially if I am standing with my weight on one leg, then have to move and shift my weight to both legs. I have finally purchased a pregnancy band which I wear around the house, and sometimes stick a heating pad in it. That seems to help a little bit. There are good days and bad days with my back. I do still go to a chiropractor, so he helps relieve some of the pain from time to time also.

4) Numbness: For a few months now, I have been experiencing a decrease in sensitivity in my left leg hip/leg area. It falls asleep frequently when I lie on either side, and even when it is not "asleep," I can tell it is less sensitive than my right leg. I told my OB about it and he could not give me a definite answer. He said it could be a lot of things related to being pregnant, but not to worry about it.

Over the past month or two, I have also noticed a true numbness in my right side, near my ribs and stomach. I first noticed this when I would feel the baby push against my ribs and then stay there, very close to the surface, as a hard oval ball. After a while of this, I noticed the skin against his body had gone numb. My skin does return to having sensations later, when the baby moves, or I move around, but it has continued to do that several times a day now. My OB said this may have to do with my having a petite frame, and the baby's body pushing against nerve endings close to the skin. But again, he said there is nothing to worry about.

5) Shortness of breath: I have bouts of becoming out of breath for no apparent reason. It has nothing to do with exercising, but may happen when I'm simply typing on my laptop, in the car driving, or watching a movie. I just suddenly feel out of breath with an increased heart rate. I know this isn't abnormal either, depending on the positioning of the baby.

6) Discomfort from my belly: I love my belly and I love being so close to my baby, but I have the obvious effects as all pregnant women do, of not being able to bend straight over. To put shoes and socks on, I now lift my leg up sideways now, instead of straight up. It has taken me some time getting used to turning the heel of my sock to the side before putting it on. I also now feel the baby up in my ribs quite often, either just pressing there, hanging out there, or kicking there, which makes sitting in many ways (especially driving) very uncomfortable. My larger belly also causes me to bump into things, or accidentally scratch it on items! I'm still not used to it in all ways, or used to the fact that I can't suck it in to get past people, or to squeeze in somewhere.

7) Weird-feeling stomach muscles: My stomach muscles feel...yeah, weird. I don't really know how to describe it. I gave up sit-ups a few months ago. It felt so strange to try to do them, it almost grossed me out, the feeling of utilizing the stomach muscles like that. And in something as common as going from lying down to sitting up in bed, you use your stomach muscles. But now it feels weird to use those muscles. When I lie back and make a stomach muscle, it also looks strange in my belly. It looks skinnier than usual, a lot of this appearance is probably because I am not used to seeing as much belly surrounding the stomach from the sides, so it turns into a sort of triangle.

8) Round Ligament Pain: According to babycenter, this is "a brief, sharp, stabbing pain or a longer-lasting dull ache that pregnant women commonly feel in the lower abdomen or groin, starting in the second trimester." I did feel this in the second trimester, mostly when coughing, sneezing, or getting up quickly, but it was not very often. I still occasionally feel this when I stand up quickly, but again, not frequently.

9) The Baby's Hardening Sensation: I have no idea what to call this, but for the past month or two, usually a few times a day, I feel a very odd sensation. I will suddenly feel my heart rate increase, and I feel as though I might pass out (but I know I won't)--just a very strange feeling. Sort of like my blood pressure is dropping dramatically. When this happens, I will put my hand down and feel my belly and there will instantly be a rock hard area of my belly where the baby is. I don't feel the baby moving during this process, but somehow my odd sensation and the baby's "hardening" seem to correlate. I asked my doctor about this and he wasn't sure, but again, said, it could be the baby pressing on nerves. It does happen fairly often when I stand up suddenly, as though the gravity change affects the baby's positioning. I will say to Mike, "Quick! Feel the baby--he's becoming a hard ball!" And then after about a minute or so, the hardness will go away.

With any of these physical changes, I still must emphasize that I quickly forget I have these "symptoms" as soon as they pass. Even if someone asks me how I am feeling an hour after I have had shortness of breath and acid reflux, most likely it won't even come to my mind that I was just feeling that. My back pain has been the most persistent, but I suppose I have sort of adjusted my expectations of how my back ought to feel, so again, I don't think it out of the ordinary to feel back pain any more (although I do appreciate and notice not having back pain!).

All in all, everything I've described seems minor to me, fairly common, nothing worrisome. I still feel great, and appreciate my good health during these baby-carrying months!

(Pregnancy Belly Shot Picture Note: In the second picture, I think it's neat to see how the baby is really in a basketball uterus in my belly! He juts right out there!)

Pregnancy Week 32: 8th Doctor's appointment

2009-02-26T23:14:00.014-05:00

Mike and I attend our 32 week OB appointment today. Once again, the doctor is reassuring, telling us everything is progressing absolutely perfectly. My weight is great, the size of my uterus is exactly on target, and the size of the baby feels right. The heartbeat is good, as well, and here we test out a little theory Mike and I have.

When the doctor uses the fetal doppler on my belly, the baby tends to kick or punch exactly where the "wand" is on my belly. The doctor says the baby cannot hear the doppler, except for what we hear as it plays in the room. I have always sensed the baby is responding to something more than the outer-womb noise, since his kick is concentrated directly at the wand itself.

So for this visit, Mike has been planning to ask him to test out our theory. He wants to try the following actions in order to isolate the cause of what makes the baby react.

1) Put the wand on the belly without turning the equipment on. If the baby kicks here, it would show he is responding to the physical pressure of the wand itself.

2) Turn the machine on, so the baby hears the sound of the machine, but keep the doppler wand away from the belly. This would show if the baby is responding to the mechanical sound of the instrument.

3) Turn the machine on and put the wand on the belly but without the speaker sound in the room. This would show if it is the internal sound from the waves that the doppler is emitting, as Mike and I suspect.

I mention that Mike wants to test out this theory to our cousin before the appointment and she says, "The doctor's probably going to look at you like--what?" And it would be a valid response since it is an odd request. I know several doctors I've had before who would not take the time to humor us or at least seem annoyed by our asking.

However, our doctor is so pleasant, that when Mike says, "Hey, we wanted to try something this time with the doppler," he simply responds, "Sure, what do you want me to do?" As Mike explains, our OB does as my husband instructs and even plays along asking, "Do you feel him moving?" to me at different phases. I love that he is open to this, remains very good natured, and takes his time with us.

The results? The baby doesn't move in situation #1 or #2. He does not immediately move with #3, but then the doctor says, "Well, we can get him to move if we stir him up a little," and he swishes the wand around a bit. Of course, this sort of defeats the purpose of our "scientific study," but yes, the baby does punch at me. However, he does not kick directly at the wand, as he has done in the past.

So our study is slightly polluted, and we don't get the expected results anyway.

But it still makes me smile!

A fun celebration with friends!

2009-02-22T22:21:00.037-05:00

Today, Mike and I experience a wonderful celebration for our little womb baby with local friends. People come from NYC, CT, Westchester, Putman and Rockland County (we are grateful that our apartment does have a pretty central location for the tri-state area). Rachel, Xell and Laurie organize this party and do a fantastic job--thank you!!

The fete is complete with raw vegan chocolates, collards wraps, lactose free cupcakes, a 4 foot steak sandwich, a strawberry shortcake baby cake and much more!

Rachel (also pregnant--just five weeks after me!) creates an awesome board game with trivia questions taken from this very blog, as well as many more activities to share. She also displays a fun baby food guessing game (who knew banana baby food smelled so gross??). And here I must add that my prize winning of the day is being the closest guess to how many jelly beans are in a baby bottle. My guess--130. The actual number--132. The previous day I also had won a "guess the cheerios in a jar" game at our friends' son's first birthday party. Mike is very proud of my guesstimating skills. He's trying to find a way we can capitalize on this clearly coveted talent and make money...

It is nice to share the experience of our approaching baby with friends and to have one final party at our apartment before the baby arrives (and I don't even have to do any of the work! They set up while Mike and I were gone!).

Many thanks to the generosity and support of our friends! We are very lucky and blessed to have such a great support network in our area!

Pregnancy Week 31: The Nesting Begins

2009-02-18T23:35:00.007-05:00

Since leaving my job, I cannot say I have the free time I expected. I had envisioned days of taking yoga, writing at the library, decorating the nursery, reading baby-preparation books...But so far, my "free time" has been quickly filled up with activities, leaving my days feeling as full as ever. Of course, some "life items" arise that require immediate attention: life insurance (as well as other types of insurance), doctor's appointments, taxes, lesson plans, a dying computer hard drive, etc. But for most of my days, I have had the pleasure to visit with friends. I am blessed to have a great support network where I live, and many of my friends do not have 9-5 day jobs, thus leaving me plenty of opportunities to socialize during weekdays. This has been a great encouragement for me, and since I know it will not be as easy to do this once the baby is born, I feel it is also an important use of my free days. Mike and I have filled our weekends with various social activities as well, so we barely have a free day off between now and April. This was not a consciously intentional effort to pack in as much entertaining as possible before the baby, but perhaps on some level, it was in the back of our minds.

Besides socializing, Mike and I have begun the famous transitional period of "nesting." While I don't always feel some warm, gooey, foreign sensation when thinking about creating a home for three, I do occasionally feel a tinge of anxiety and an overwhelming sensation in thinking about all the work I want to have done before we bring home our baby! And I suppose that counts for "nesting" these days!

So! Here are some nesting steps we've taken so far (many fueled by very helpful time constraints, like people visiting, a party at our apartment, etc):

Nesting Step 1: Sell our guest bed.
While Mike finds this bed more comfortable than our own king size plush pillow top mattress, we know it is time to let go. He is sad. This means, if I am having restless nights of tossing and turning, or if one of us is sick, there is no second bed to sneak off to in order to give the other person a chance to sleep in peace. We'll now just have to take the coughing and the flopping and deal with it like most married couples (and thankfully, for the past few months, I have been sleeping somewhat better, so this hasn't been an issue).

Nesting Step 2: Clear out the guest room/soon-to-be "baby room."
Once the bed is gone, we now see what is left of the room. I indicate to Mike where to move the remaining furniture and Mike moves the other misc items to a pile on our table for me to sort through, which I do.

Nesting Step 3: Paint the baby room.
Now that the guest room is open, when I am at a friend's daughter's birthday party, Mike paints the guest room--er, baby room. It is his first experience painting, and armed with the Home Depot book and a few helpful comments from family members, he does a great job! When I come home, I cannot help but return to the newly painted room several times throughout the night (and the following days), "just to look at it." It is like the first time Mike buys me Tiffany's jewelry. I don't know how else to say it. You just want to keep looking at it.

Nesting Step 4: Organize baby items.
We are so incredibly thankful to have received some baby items already--both new and used. People have been very generous and helpful as to what are great things to have. However, in our tiny apartment, we now must find places to store these items (strollers, carseats, swings, clothes etc) until we have a proper place for them, or until the baby is old enough to use them. So...
-Part 1: Mike and I walk down to the outdoor storage shed we share with our landlords and look at the disaster before us. On this sunny Saturday, we then work together to throw out our old items, and rearrange the remaining items in an orderly fashion. Once this is done, we see there is a good deal of space we can use to store baby gear.
-Part 2: I wrap and tape all of the big items in garbage bags and label them. I then sort all of the baby clothes by age, put them in storage bins, and label them (I don't want to wash them until we have a dresser to put them in). Mike takes everything to the shed to store.

Nesting Step 5: Plan what steps are next!
Now that we have a fairly empty baby room, I want to start filling it up with baby furniture! The crib I had wanted has been discontinued, so I now need to start over in searching for a good crib and matching dresser/changing table. Hopefully, we can find these in the next few weeks, then work toward accessories like book shelves, a storage shelf/rack, rug, and curtains. I will also be cleaning out our closets so we can hopefully find more places inside to store items we should have handy. We also need to interview doulas, create our birthing preferences, read some baby care books, take our birthing/breast feeding/infant care classes, while Mike works and I start to teach, and still attempt to nurture our creative pursuits, our marriage, our family relationships, our friendships and our health.

I have decided to give up saying, "Next week will free up and I will have time" and now will say, "Next week is busy, but I will make the time to..." And while there is a lot to think about and to do, it's very exciting--because, I do sometimes get that warm, gooey, foreign sensation when thinking about creating a home for three...and I like it.

Week 30 of Pregnancy

2009-02-12T12:28:00.011-05:00

Wait--what? Week 30?

My friend calls me this morning and says, "Your countdown on your blog says 68 days left! I can't believe how fast it's gone by!"

Wait--what? 68 days?

Isn't that just over 2 months?

Wait--what? 2 months left?

Before--what? Having a baby?

Having a--wait--what? I'm having a baby?

In 2 months? 68 days?

So wait--why didn't I notice, I mean, really notice, I was in my--wait--my third trimester?

Oh, yeah. I was in Antigua.

Having my babymoon.

My baaaa-by...moon...

Before my baaaaa-by comes...

In 68 moons...

Wow.

(pictured above: My friend and I at lunch this week. She is also 30 weeks pregnant. See how our babies are "holding hands" in the second picture?)

A video from our "babymoon" to Antigua

2009-02-08T12:28:00.005-05:00

So the handy flip camcorder helped make a random video for me from our trip to the West Indies. Here it is set to Mike's awesome song, "Spinning Daydream."

I tried to make a few more videos with other clips, but unfortunately, the software did not let me. :(

Pregnancy Week 29: 7th Prenatal Doctor's Appointment

2009-02-04T23:06:00.009-05:00

Today, I have my monthly OB appointment, and while I have tried not to think about it, I am slightly worried about what my doctor might say regarding my weight gain. My scale at home has given me so many different readings, but I know it is typically lower than the doctor's scale. At my last appointment, my doctor said I looked healthy and good, but he did notice I had gained a pound more than average over 5 weeks. While everyone has been encouraging about this minor remark, and while I myself know there is nothing wrong with this, and I do actually feel confident in the way I look (I think), I still cannot help feel anxious about his reaction if I have gained, say 6-8 pounds in 4 weeks.

On the car ride over to the appointment, I tell Mike these worries then promise him I will stop talking about it once I get weighed. Mike believes I've blown the whole comment out of proportion in my mind (I probably have on some level), and says there is nothing to worry about.

"Well, if the doctor starts judging my weight gain, then you should say something to him if you think I look healthy."

He tells me he will, and I actually feel better already.

However, as fate would have it, none of these concerns even come into play as it appears I have only gained 2.5 pounds in 4 weeks after all! I smile and feel a huge sense of relief! Of course, I would also be fine with weighing a few pounds more, as well, but I am just happy I don't need to explain any "higher than average" weight gain.

In fact, the doctor doesn't even bring up my weight this time, yet Mike, ready to defend me, asks him, "So is Tara's weight okay?"

My OB looks at his chart, "Yes, I'd say it's just about perfect for where it should be at this point," he turns to me. "With you, my concern would be if you weren't gaining enough weight, but it seems you're gaining enough, but not too much, just right where you should be."

It relieves me further to hear him say this--that his worry would be my not gaining enough, not that I would gain too much. I now think it is possible he mentioned my weight gain last time in order to assure me it was completely healthy for me, in case he had been worried I would overreact to that gain myself.

In any case, I am done with thinking about my weight now! It is what it is. I eat pretty much the same as I have all my pregnancy and even pre-pregnancy, just heeding what my body tells me. And that is the end of that saga.

So!

The rest of our meeting goes equally as well. He tells me my next appointment will be 2-3 weeks from now, then the next few will be 2 weeks apart, and finally, I'll be seeing him every week in my last month. He encourages me to come with any questions I have about labor or delivery. It seems that "suddenly," we are moving into the home stretch (how did that happen?)!

Otherwise...I have passed my glucose test, so I do not have gestational diabetes. The baby's heartbeat is right at the cusp of a "boy's heartbeat" (old wives' tale) around 140. The doctor measures my uterus, saying that the number of centimeters it is should correspond with the number of weeks I am pregnant. It seems like another old wives' tale, but it is true, as I measure between 28 and 29 centimeters (and I am just a day or two into 29 weeks).

We also finally hear the results of our 20-week anatomy screening (almost 10 weeks later!). The sonographer had said a general "all is fine" at the appointment, but it is nice to be assured of the specifics--that the baby has no genetic issues, all the organs are functioning as they should be, and our baby is pretty much right in the middle of all the percentiles. Everything is developing perfectly, he says.

As Mike and I celebrate our appointment at our local Indian restaurant (it has become a tradition that we go out to eat after our late OB appointments), we talk about how lucky we have been this pregnancy. We have not had any scares, any medical issues, the baby is active and strong, I have felt really good, and I seem to be progressing on target. I appreciate all the prayers from our families, from the people at my parents' church, from our friends, from my husband. I do believe we and our baby boy are truly blessed, and as we progress into this last trimester, that confidence is the most reassuring of all.

(Photo Note: No, don't worry that I have suddenly given up my pregnancy exhibitionist belly pictures! I just didn't have my normal attire with me when taking these photos. Rest assured, they shall come back. But I'll give you a break after all the Antigua onslaught of bathing suit shots! :)

Wonderful Ladies' Luncheon

2009-02-02T23:50:00.005-05:00

Mike and I make our last pre-baby visit to upstate NY to see my family and visit his college roommates who have assembled for the Superbowl. Of course, our weekend starts out with a snowstorm resulting in a zero-visibility patch of road on Route 17, but luckily, the visibility clears up and we are left with an on-and-off-again snowy, but manageable drive.

Saturday, my lovely sisters-in-law, Marnie and Kate, put together a great Ladies' Luncheon (intimate shower) for me. We play some fun games (they know me well!), have a wonderful lunch and eat a yummy "The Giving Tree" cake Marnie has made (she mailed me the book when our womb baby was only a month old--his first book!). It is special to share this time with them, especially because we live six hours away from each other, and I am blessed to be surrounded by loving, caring and supportive people in my life. Thank you!

That night, my parents, my brothers and their families, and Mike and I all assemble for one last dinner and a night of Cranium--just the 10 of us. My grandmother points out to me that this is a phrase we will often say now: "This will be the last time we ______ without the baby!" With only 2+ months left, she is right!

Sunday evening, we attend the Superbowl Party at Mike's friend's house, and the hosting couple is also expecting a baby boy a day from our due date. I think she has it much harder than I do, as she has two other children to care for, while working as a full-time nurse--but she looks great! The guys play video games--x-box tradition; the toddlers pad their way around the play area--they are such cute kids; and once the Superbowl starts, we all eat, hang out and relax. Our last Superbowl "without the baby..."

It is a good weekend and we arrive back in Harrison late Monday night. Our last long drive, yes, "without the baby..." Thanks again to our friends and family who have been a wonderful support during this pregnancy, and always!

Pictured above:
1-My niece's beautiful handmade wrapping paper for her gift to Baby Bouteneff.
2-My niece and I stiffing "dirty"/candy diapers.

Pregnancy Week 28: Glucose test and rhogam shot

2009-01-29T23:48:00.007-05:00

Today, I visit Stamford Hospital to receive my mercury-free rhogam shot (for being rh negative and the doctor not caring if Mike is negative as well), and take the infamous Glucose Test.

I arrive at 9:30am, my appointed time, and learn I must first register in another part of the hospital, then go to the lab, before returning to the infusion center to receive my shot. I make my way to Registration, and after waiting for 45 minutes, complete the first leg of my journey.

Next, I move on to the laboratory, where I have blood drawn to ensure I am rh negative, and I register in that department. When I walk into the center, I see another pregnant woman drinking the glucose concoction and making a face. "I'm right behind you!" I tell her, and in a few minutes, I sit down with my own sugary orange soda mixture. It really is not as bad as everyone warned me--at least it is nothing compared to the chalky disgusting goo I had to drink before a CAT scan once. I am to wait for one hour in the lab while the sugars do their thing.

While the wait is long (and there is another long wait to come!), the time passes remarkably quickly due to meeting the other glucose-drinking pregnant woman. I sit a few chairs away from her, and we begin chatting. I find out she is 28 weeks, as well. In fact, she is due only 2 days before I am. The similarities increase when we find out she is rh negative, as well, and will be moving on to the Infusion Center after the glucose test, along with me. After talking for 45 minutes or so, and hearing her mention things her doctor has told her, I decide to test out another possible similarity.

"I doubt he's the same one, but what is your doctor's name?"

She says his name and begins telling me where his office is located, and I interupt her to say, "That's my doctor too!"

We are both surprised at another pregnancy coincidence!

We then dish our opinion of our doctor. This is her second baby, and her first experience was with a large practice. Her doctors were competent, but she was looking for a more personal involvement with her second baby, and a friend recommended our OB. She has had a few difficulties during her pregnancy, and our doctor has been reassuring to her, and very helpful. She also finds him extremely calming, relaxed, and thorough. She shares her friend's experience in delivery with him as well, where he also proved to be attentive, caring, respectful, and present.

It is relieving to speak to someone else who has the same OB as I do, and can validate my feelings of security with him.

After the hour is up, my new pregnancy friend has her blood drawn again, then I have mine drawn again. She waits for me, and we walk over to the Infusion Center together. We register, then sit in another waiting room for another hour, talking and sharing.

We both receive our rhogam shots, exchange information, then walk out to the parking lot together. "Maybe we'll see each other in April!" We half-joke before going our separate ways.

It is an interesting morning, speaking with her, because she divulges a plethora of interesting information about the delivery of her first child. While I feel I have asked many of my new mothers numerous questions about their labor and delivery, I find myself asking and learning specifics from her that I have never heard from anyone before. She shares every detail openly and I am fully engaged, happy to sit back and listen to her experience. I suppose there is something about meeting a stranger in a hospital environment, where what you share in common is a physical/ medical state of being, that allows both strangers to be, perhaps, even more open than they would normally be with friends or acquaintances. There is a sort of safety zone, where nothing seems too personal to share or ask, if related to an experience two people both will be having.

And to the other people in the waiting area...the large man in the wheelchair, the elderly gentleman watching tv, the couple speaking in an Eastern European language...well, I guess they were just the "lucky" recipients who had the chance to eavesdrop about half-working epidurals and such.

Pregnancy Week 27: Babymoon vacation to Antigua!

2009-01-23T23:30:00.001-05:00

Mike and I recently returned from a wonderful week-long "babymoon" to Antigua and Barbuda. Despite our worries about finances and using a week of Mike's vacation time pre-baby, we are 100% convinced we made the right decision to have this special vacation. I highly recommend a last-chance vacation to anyone who is pregnant and able to go!

In Antigua...the weather is perfect--in the 80s, mostly sunny and humid, with a sprinkle of sun-kissed rain every day (lots of rainbows!). After we switch rooms from our initial ant-palace, we relax and enjoy the comforts of the resort. We go snorkeling at the coral reefs, we kayak in the ocean, visit the town of St. John's (and see Obama's inauguration on tv at one of the bars, amidst cheering West Indian residents--pretty cool) and Mike plays beach volleyball, beach soccer, and takes windsurfing lessons. We eat a lot (what will my OB think of my weight gain at my next appointment?), swim a lot, and relax by the beach and pool a lot.

Not only is the vacation refreshing and nurturing to us as pre-parents and as a married couple, but it is also a fun time to be reminded of the excitement of being pregnant itself. Away from the usual day-to-day activities of work, email, phone calls...there is something unique in sharing a pregnancy with strangers who don't see you every day, especially when you are the only pregnant woman, and you are walking around in a bathing suit for all to see the bare belly! It is a good conversation starter and attention grabber for other resort goers and employees. Every day, at least 5-10 people talk to me somehow about the baby:

Most often, people say, as I walk by, or if I enter or exit a restaurant, "Take care of that baby!" or "How's your baby enjoying Antigua?"

Others include:

-"When are you due?" One restaurant hostess doesn't believe I am 6 months pregnant and stares at me for an awkward amount of time as I try to laugh it off while taking my seat at the table. "Yes, he's in there!" I say. More staring. "Hahah, yup." More staring. "It's my first." I am running out of nonchalant things to say and she's still staring... She shakes her head, very serious. "I don't believe it," she says almost in a disapproving manner. "Hahah, well, it's true. He's moving around in there!" More awkward staring. Okay, another employee is here now to take our drink order. Hostess leaves. That was weirdly tense.

-"Are you having a boy or a girl?" Or many people guess first, "Is it a boy?" (No one guessed a girl--interesting, right?)

-"I love that belly!"

-"You girls are lucky you can wear tight clothing now--it looks great! When I was pregnant they had us wearing tents!"

-One of my favorite comments is from a young man working at the buffet who makes eggs to order at breakfast and grilled sandwiches at lunch. The very first time I see him, in line for an egg white omelet, he says with no other opening, "I wish you would have your baby in Antigua." I almost do not understand what he says as I'm not expecting that statement. I ask him to repeat himself, he does, and I laugh. "Oh, yes, that would definitely be memorable!" He asks when I'm due and I tell him. After this, every time I see him, he comments that I should stay for three more months to have my baby here. He knows I would love it. The baby would love it. Why don't I stay?

It is a relief to walk around and have everyone instantly know that I am pregnant. I realize that while being pregnant in the winter has its advantages, it would also be fun to be pregnant in the summer. There are no heavy winter coats to hide your belly; people can instantly see it's not just pudge under a bulky coat--you are really pregnant! The temperature and high humidity also does not seem to bother me (yet, at least), clothing is easy and light (lots of summer dresses are loose enough to fit and bikini bottoms still fit), and it is just so joyous to be out in the sun. That works wonders for any mood.

Perhaps one of the best advantages of "summer" in terms of my pregnant body is the light feeling I have when I walk in the water. The first time Mike and I walk into the ocean, I notice a different feeling as the water surrounds my belly. I almost feel as though my belly is expanding, but at the same time, it feels as though it is floating on its own. My lower back, which has been aching a great deal lately, feels no pain and the sensation of lightness is amazing. As I walk out of the ocean, I slowly start to feel my back aching more and more--until the water is just at my legs, and I feel heavy and achy once more. I know water makes you feel lighter, but I have never experienced it in such a dramatic and obvious way before.

And while Mike and I enjoy the advantages the water, sun, and all-inclusive resort provide, little Womb Baby seems to be affected by the vacation, as well. After our snorkeling trip about half-way through our vacation, he starts moving and kicking more than I have ever felt him before. He kicks and punches hard, flops over hard, and moves along my belly in slow firm motions. None of this is new (although we do feel him hiccup for the first time), but what is new is that he seems to be moving almost constantly when I am awake. He now not only moves when I'm sitting or lying down, but he moves when I am standing, walking, eating--times when he would typically relax prior to the snorkeling trip.

I am not certain what has changed him after the boat ride and snorkeling excursion, but apparently he is a new man! And stronger than ever!

And now, we are back in New York. We're back on our computers, making our own food again, and I rest my feet on the space heater to warm up the little piglets. But the memory of the pastel ocean, the clear and winding pool, the soft sand, the Caribbean music, and the solid "Mike & Tara Time" we experienced, are still very vivid, strong, and make me smile.
I now just need to teach my body to be patient for another six months until it can relax in the warm sun on the beach once more...with a little baby by its side...

(If this host of random pictures isn't enough for you, feel free to check out more pictures here and here.)

Pregnancy Week 26: What do you do with your last few months before your life changes forever...

2009-01-13T18:06:00.004-05:00

Let's be clear. I'm not dying. There is nothing preventing me from fulfilling any artistic, emotional, personal, intellectual or career-oriented dream after having a child. We still plan to go on vacations, I still plan to write, to teach, to work on my music. Mike will continue working in marketing, editing his blog, writing and recording music. We'll still hang out with friends, go to movies, have romantic nights together... These are not things that will necessarily be easy to do once we have a child, but they are not impossible and if one makes them a priority now and then, they will happen.

However.

It will never be the same. Even if we vacation without our child, we will still know we have a child. We will still miss that child, care and worry about that child. There is no way we can be as carefree as we are now.

The time we spend on our artistic pursuits will change as well. Mike won't be able to play his guitar loudly late at night. I won't be able to simply plop down on the couch and pull out my laptop whenever I feel like it. We will have to be more careful about using our time wisely, supporting each other, making time for each of us to have the creative alone-time. And creative together-time.

So as we are entering into the seventh month--about three months left--what steps do we want to make before our lives take this irreversible path?

For one, I made the big decision to leave my job before we have the baby. It was a hard decision, especially financially, but Mike has been encouraging me to utilize my last few months to truly focus on my writing. January 15 is now my last day, and while I will teach Playmaking part-time February to June (or as long as I am comfortable before/after delivery), my every day job will end. So I will have 3 months to hopefully relax, try to sleep better, take yoga classes, enjoy my pregnancy without rushing through it, prepare our room and apartment for the baby, and of course, work on my creative goals. It is a leap of faith we're taking, but hopefully it will be an investment that pays off in the future. After all, I'll never have this opportunity, not like this, again in my life.

We have also planned the increasingly popular "babymoon". After a great deal of research regarding health, safety, weather, and travel costs, we decided on a 6-night all-inclusive stay at a resort in Antigua. We leave just two days after my final day of work. Not only are we looking forward to a proper vacation (we've had short vacations in the past few years, but our last week long vacation was Mexico in 2006), but we can't wait to spend that isolated time together.

Mike also has been working very hard at his music. He feels an even greater pressure than I do to complete a certain amount of songs before the baby is born. I feel badly when I can see he is clearly anxious under the pressure of a looming life change. I try to encourage him, to work on his music now, but to know it doesn't have to end when we have a baby. It will be harder, but if we make the effort...

In some ways, I think having a baby will focus us even more. I remember my High School band conductor telling me, "If you want something done, ask a busy person to do it." I have found that to be true in many instances. When I look at my most prolific times of writing and accomplishing goals, they often are when I have barely had a moment to sleep. These sleepless nights are right around the corner, so maybe this is a good thing creatively?

Of course, I could be engaging in multiple forms of self-delusion, on many levels, when I think about this for the present and future. Ultimately, we just need to make the most of the time we have now, and make the most of the time we have with our baby.

On Sunday, we celebrated Russian Orthodox Christmas with Mike's parents. They came over to our apartment for brunch, gifts, and visiting. They are graciously bird-sitting Darius while we are in the Caribbean, and so as they are about to leave, Mike asks them how their cat, Maxie, is doing.

His mother starts explaining, "He got sick. He wasn't doing very well..." Mike is a bit confused, but she goes on. "He was throwing up a lot and howling in pain..."

Mike is starting to realize, but still not certain.

"So we took him to the vet..." she says.

Mike pauses, then asks,"So...is he dead?"

She nods. "We had to put him to sleep. He was in so much pain."

After they leave, Mike comes to me and says, "My childhood cat is dead..." He is clearly very affected by this and after some tears, we talk about the cat a little. He says he wishes he had spent more time with him. I point out Maxie usually ran away from us when we visited--so it's not as though Mike hadn't tried (Maxie would hop on Mike's mom's lap, but other than her, he often kept to himself, although Mike and the cat would rough-house together from time to time).

But this is not the point.

The point is, Mike would have liked more time with the family cat. When the timing is appropriate, I tell him, "Well, maybe we can take something away from this. Maybe we can use this as a reminder to spend time with the people or animals we love. If someone dies, we don't want to say, 'I wish I had spent more time with this loved one rather than doing X.'" I know this is a common philosophy, but is does ring true, and Mike agrees.

Projects are important. Work is necessary. Creative goals are inspiring, fun, stimulating and nourishment for us. But, people are...well, people are what we miss when they are gone.

One priority will never change, and that is my devotion to Mike, as my husband, the primary person in my life, with or without a child. And we will continue with our writing, our music, our work, our blogs, our computer time. But we have created a person. And some priorities are going to change. And as I sit here typing this, feeling my little boy move around inside of me, I am really quite okay with that change. I'm ready for my number two person to take his place in my world. I can't wait.

Pregnancy Week 25: 6th Doctor's Appointment - a pregnant woman and her weight

2009-01-07T20:25:00.010-05:00

Today we meet with our doctor for the 6th time. Happily, Mike can join me for the appointment (and happily, before the doctor arrives, he gets to play with his iphone until I ask him to please put it away and talk with me).

We ask the doctor a few questions about our upcoming "babymoon" to Antigua, and he talks about things to avoid or things to enjoy. He gives me information on taking my glucose test and my rhogam shot (both at 28 weeks). I am aware that most rhogam contains thimerosol, although some do not, so I hope I will not have to go through a long procedure to receive the mercury-free shot again. We shall see.

The doctor checks the heartbeat of our son; it is 140-150. Our baby kicks at the doppler device (I don't believe he likes it), and we talk about the baby movements. Overall, it is another pleasant doctor's visit. Our doctor is friendly, attentive and caring. He has an average sense of humor, smiles and can appreciate our joking nature, but he is warm and calm enough that I think he will be a good delivery doctor.

However, one thing he says, Mike and I both find a bit...interesting...

Each time I go to the OB, I have to pee in cup, and get weighed. According to their scales (always a few pounds higher than my scale at home), I have gained 6 pounds in 5 weeks.

So at the beginning of our appointment, the doctor always looks at my chart, sees my weight and typically says the same thing. "I see you've gained a little weight. That's good. You look good." And he continues with his openings of how I am feeling etc.

This time, he starts off the same. "I see you've gained some weight." But here, he varies from the script slightly. "You've gained more than average..."

Or perhaps he says, "You're gaining more than average" or "It's more than average" or another variation of that intention. It was just one quick clause, but it is played back in many different forms in my head as I dissect it.

So here I am, thinking...Okay. Fair enough. That is slightly more than the recommended 1 pound a week, but so far, I have been either on target or slightly under the recommended amount at this point. And I just drank 16 oz of water to make sure I could pee enough, and yes, I admit, I have had my share of christmas cookies this holiday season!

But would I think to point out I am gaining more than average? It is one visit, one moment, and only 1 pound.

I smile in my head, almost to the "gallery" implying, "Are you guys hearing this?" The doctor doesn't see what's in my head however, and continues in the same pleasant and caring tone. "But I'm not worried about that for you. You started on the low end and probably could have stood to gain weight anyway. And you look good. You look very healthy."

Now, I must be clear that I am not offended by what he said, and I still have a cookie that night, so obviously, it has not scarred me. But as soon as Mike and I leave the office, I immediately bring this comment up to him. "I know!" Mike exclaims back at me as we wait for the elevator.

We both find it odd that the doctor would point out a barely perceptible higher-than-recommended weight gain, especially to someone who has been consistently gaining the recommended amount (or less). Perhaps he is more fixated on weight gain, as my pregnant friend (who sees midwives who merely ask her what her weight is) points out, due to the theory of women's gaining too much weight leading to larger babies and potentially necessitating c-sections (debatable, but I know he has mentioned that to me before). Or perhaps he meant I am gaining more weight than my own personal average, as a co-worker suggests when I vent this to her (she is kind, but I don't think that's what he meant). Or perhaps he just didn't realize that 5 weeks had gone by because we could not schedule at our standard 4 weeks, due to the holidays.

Whatever the case, I choose to focus on the second part of his comment. Because I like him and I know he didn't intend anything offensive. I do still look healthy, and even if I gain a tiny bit more than average from time to time, that really probably is fine for me.

And hey, we're still taking belly shots of me in a bikini top, so that must mean something!

Reborn Babies

2009-01-03T16:05:00.006-05:00

[posted by Mike]
Tara and I saw a program on 20-20 yesterday about "Reborn Babies." The show followed adults who purchase VERY realistic-looking, hand-crafted dolls and pretend they're real. They sing to them, take them out, buy them real baby clothes, get compliments from people they run into (who think the babies are real), and basically live as a mother and child would live, minus the poop, the crying, the growth, and emotional feedback loop.

The dolls go for anywhere between $500-$3000. Conventions revolve around the buying, selling, and custom ordering of these little babes. One such site selling them is Reborn Babies.

The show discussed the psychological aspects of such a "hobby". Many women probably do in fact get a bit of a "mother's high" from interacting with the baby in such a real way. However, some psychologists are concerned that 1) these "moms" are getting too accustomed to socially interacting with these dolls as an accessory, and 2) these "moms" never actually get the emotional response/love back from the baby...i.e. the affection is all 1-way.

Interesting stuff. For our first one, I'm glad we stuck with the "au natural" method of baby production. But when we start changing diapers, perhaps a doll won't seem like such a bad idea? :)

Pregnancy Week 24: From a snow storm to a shower to soccer practice...

2008-12-30T16:30:00.015-05:00

The last few days I am visiting my family in Upstate New York, the snow storms die down, but I am blessed with a shower of a different sort when, on Sunday, my mom and the Women's Association at the Fair Haven Church throw me a baby shower. I grew up in this church and still attend when I'm visiting, so it is nice to see everyone and feel loved. My former Sunday School teachers are there, the lovely ladies of the church attend, my sister-in-law even makes it after a nasty fall on the ice, and a few of my High School friends who are semi-local are present. BBB, as my mom writes on her card to him (that's "Baby Boy Bouteneff" for those of you who are not as into initials as we are) receives many cute outfits, blankets, toys and other items. A huge thanks to all the church ladies, Suzanne who made the cake, friends and family, and my mom, who all make this a very special time for us!

Meanwhile, Mike, my dad, my brother, and my nephew go to my brother's house and play the wii until the power goes out (it is very windy). The same day, Mike and I even have a chance to visit the Fair Haven State Park and view the waves crashing into the melted snow along the beach. We all have a fun day!

The following day, Mike and I travel back to Westchester, and all the while, Womb Baby is kicking and moving like crazy during the 6 hour drive.

I am beginning to think he becomes extremely active on the rare occasions when I have caffeinated tea. This is not often (only a handful of times my entire pregnancy so far--and I never drink coffee), but the last few times I have had tea, he does seem to kick me with more energy and zest.

Not only is he kicking and rolling over in big thumps, as he has been, but for the past week or two, Mike and I have been able to feel hard parts of his body while they move across my belly. It is one thing to feel a poke or a shove or a general movement. That is sensational enough. But to have my hand on my belly, and then feel a hard ball move up against the palm of my hand, then roll or glide down my hand to another part of me, almost as a cat would rub up against one's hand in order to be pet...it is something so amazing and so out of my control, it almost freaks me out. We may be coming upon the "alien in the belly" stage...

But it freaks me out in a good way, and I describe it to Mike, saying, "It's like, if you see a fly and you think it's dead, and you touch it, and it moves, and you see it's alive!"

"You think our son is a dead bug?" Mike asks.

"No..." I smile. "But it's sort of the same feeling. Just being totally surprised that something is alive and moving. It's startles me!"

However I choose to describe it, bugs raised from the dead or cats looking for a good rub, it is wild and fascinating and makes me smile with nervous excitement. And our son is doing it right now as I write this post (I have to keep breaking to put my hand on my belly to feel). In fact, I have just called Mike over to me to feel the baby move. BBB moves so much and for so long, Mike finally has to go back to his project before the baby is even done moving. He just isn't stopping! Mike is already thinking of soccer drills he'd like to play with our son, and it seems our guy is putting in a little practice time of his own.

So as we settle into our routines at home, our baby making himself more and more a part of our every day lives, I am left feeling very blessed again--to have family and friends who care so much about us, to have a wonderful husband who will be a wonderful father, and to have a healthy active baby boy inside of me, who already brings us great joy.

Pregnancy Week 23: Womb baby's first real snow-storm!

2008-12-26T10:44:00.016-05:00

Welcome to Upstate New York, womb-baby! Where the "a" in apple has that mid-western twang, where the people still say hi to you as you pass by on the street--whether you know them or not (And chances are, in a small town, you probably do know them, or they know your parents, or you went to school with their cousin...), where people say "Merry Christmas" at the drugstore without hesitation, and where, of course, snow storms abound. And to my friends from the tri-state area who think they have encountered snow storms, the reason I entitle this our womb-baby's first "real snow-storm" is that as dangerous as we feel the Westchester/CT storms are, they are really NutraSweet to the raw organic cane sugar of the lake-effect snow belt. You get a taste of it, but it's nothing like the real thing.

So on Monday, Mike and I prepare to leave for our journey to my parents' house for Christmas. They live about on hour northwest of Syracuse in the small village of Fair Haven on the coast of Lake Ontario, population 850 (which supposedly triples in the summer due to the beach and state park in the town). There are no traffic lights, movie theatres or chain restaurants. However, the village is in the process of putting in a town sewer system, has new street signs in place, and even boasts a few cross walks on Main Street. They have band concerts every Saturday night in the summer, the surrounding communities all become very involved in the 4th of July Parade, the summer carnival at the recreation park and the Winter Carnival at the iced-over state park are always fun, and the culture of the neighboring Renaissance Faire adds an interesting mix to the summer vibe. It's a cute town filled with caring people, and if you don't mind the lack of choices when it comes to eating out or buying your groceries, having everyone know who you are and at least some of your business, or feeling a bit isolated (you'll have to travel about 40 miles to the nearest town with population over 50,000), you might find it quite charming.

However, even the residents admit, the lake effect snow is not Fair Haven's best quality. And unfortunately, it is one of the strongest qualities for at least a solid third of the year.

So Monday morning, Mike and I check out weather.com one more time. Yes, there is some sort of storm warning in effect for Central New York, but it appears that it should be completed by 7pm. And with the rate at which Mike and I are moving this morning (we keep finding more things we need to do before leaving), we should not reach the snow belt until well after 7pm.

We make our stops at the library, at our car garage, I pack up a few last gifts, Mike warms up the car for our bird (Darius travels with us), and we are off. The trip starts out pleasant enough; we listen to an episode of Radio Lab about the reasons for mass hysteria generated by the War of the Worlds radio show (and subsequent similar shows since); we talk; we sing; we stop for some food. And the baby makes his presence known--he is quite active in the car.

In fact, the baby has been moving a lot Sunday and Monday, and harder than usual. I am not sure if it is the chili I ate or the caffeinated tea I drank (I rarely have caffeine) on Sunday, or if it my anxiety of rushing around to complete last minute tasks--but he has been moving like never before! He has been kicking me so hard that it shocks me and I even say, "Ow!" This happens once when Mike is in the room and he asks if I'm okay. I tell him the baby just whacked me hard. He smiles. "It's funny to hear you say 'ow' and I look at you and expect to see something hurting you, and you're just standing there. And you tell me it's the baby from inside!"

So the baby is very much a part of our journey and I don't mind his kicks because we are happy he's a strong little guy, and happy to be off of work for a week, and traveling to friendly Fair Haven.

And then at exactly 7pm, when the storm should have been completed according to weather.com, we notice the flakes starting to mount on the windshield. We are still at least an hour outside of Syracuse, but as time progresses, the flakes are speeding up, the nighttime sky has arrived, and our visibility slowly starts to fade.

By the time we reach Syracuse, the roads are a mess and it is quite difficult to see in front of us. We stop to pick up one last gift that has been awaiting us at Best Buy, I snap some cool pictures of a snow-covered tree in the parking lot, then we hop on the road again.

Once we leave the city of Syracuse, visibility worsens. The snow is probably coming down faster, but we also no longer have the city to light up the sky around us, and since there are no street lights along the highway, we can barely see the ground directly in front of us, much less anything else. My mother encourages us on the phone to stay at a hotel if the roads are bad, but I can't imagine where we would stay at this point. These last 45 miles to Fair Haven are slow and arduous, but Mike does a great job of staying focused and keeping the car on the road, with my occasional-to-frequent comments of, "Slow down..." (even though the 4-wheel drive trucks are zipping by us).

After traveling for another 90 minutes or so (thankfully, there is never any real traffic on this highway, and we don't pass any accidents or it could have been longer), we notice the snow starts to let up. Visibility increases and we both relax a bit more in the car. We are only five miles from my parents' house and the journey is almost over. We will arrive around 11pm, have some of my mom's yummy christmas cookies and chex mix, and get to bed early so we will be refreshed for my niece's Christmas concert at her school on Tuesday morning. We are listening to the old radio shows on the local NPR station (I love my WRVO!), and as we round a bend which then turns into a steep hill downward, the car suddenly is no longer in Mike's control. But we are going so slowly at the moment, that if it weren't for Mike's swearing, I would barely notice anything was out of the ordinary. We slowly slide into the snow bank at the side of the road and stop.

At this point, I still feel we will be able to simply put the car in reverse and back up. After all, we are barely off the road, and we were going so slowly--we can't be too stuck. Mike tries to push the car out to no avail, and I start to realize this is not going to be a quick fix. I call my dad who misses the end of Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to come out to help us (luckily, he's seen it before). My dad brings a shovel and he and Mike and a kind stranger who lives nearby, try to dig the car out. During this time, I have called AAA and am on hold for almost 30 minutes until I speak with someone in our area. She tells me a tow truck will arrive some time before 12:30am.

Several more people stop by to ask if we need a phone, to offer their truck's service to pull us out if we have a chain or a rope (we don't), and finally I remind Mike that I've had to go to the bathroom since Syracuse. He says I should have my dad take me home and he will wait for AAA. I don't want Mike to be left alone, so I ask my dad to drop me off, then come back to wait with Mike. He agrees, and my bird and I move to my dad's SUV and travel home.

Not long after my dad arrives back on the scene with Mike, AAA finally does arrive and pulls the car out. It is a long night, but we are all safe, the car is working, and with little sleep, we still enjoy my niece's Christmas concert the next morning.

Tuesday afternoon, we drive out to finish a bit of last minute shopping, and we pass the snow bank we'd visited for 90 minutes the night before. It isn't until then that I realize how steep the ditch is next to the road. If the snow bank had not been so strong and icy and we had actually gone off the road, our car would have most likely nose-dived into that ditch, which potentially could have damaged the car, not to mention causing a lot of strain to me and Mike, and possibly the baby. There would definitely have been some severe jostling with the seat belts jabbing into us for a steep descent.

So while today, as I look outside and see there is another lake-effect snow storm brewing here, I feel quite lucky and thankful to God that we were kept safe that night. And our little baby is back to kicking and stretching as normal--not so many hard 'ow' kicks to his womb-house. So perhaps the caffeine is out of his system, or he is just more relaxed and comfy and cozy like his mother. Because despite cars being off the road, and winter storm warnings, there really is nothing like being at your childhood home for the holidays. And for me, that home, like it or not, happens to be filled with lake-effect snow. Lots of it.

Pregnancy Week 22: Enjoy your womb-house while you've got it, Baby! Once out, you'll be a renter!

2008-12-18T18:19:00.011-05:00

Even with low interest rates, a "buyers' market", excellent credit, a generous contribution from my in-laws (thank you!), Mike's MBA and good job, we still cannot find an affordable, decent house that is close to his work and in a good school district.

We have been looking at houses since April, seeing over 100 by now, but we still carry forth with determined resolve and hope. After all, Everyone keeps telling us, "The right house for you is out there. I'm sure it will come to you. Everything will work out for the best." And Everyone can't be wrong. Right?

After being burned by two near-hit houses in the Spring and Summer, we finally decide to put an offer in on a house this week in the same town we live in now. Actually, we put two offers in on two separate houses. The offers are low, but isn't Everyone saying to us that's okay? In this economy, we have a chance? "Who knows," Everyone says, "maybe the seller is desperate to get rid of the house?"

I listen to Everyone and nod and smile and agree, "Who knows?" And part of me feels that wonder, that same covert excitement when you are staring at a lottery ticket you know will not bring you more than $2...but still...

Logically, Mike and I know better. Westchester County is a bubble within the real estate market that has not been touched greatly by the slow economy (no matter what our agent claims). It is particularly difficult in our town, since the schools are good and taxes are relatively low (Westchester was recently ranked the county with the highest property taxes in the US, our unfortunate claim to fame). Houses pretty much sell at the asking price in our town, or $5-$20K under, which, on an $800K house, is not much off the tag (and we are definitely not looking at houses even close to $800K).

Yet we make our valiant effort and get back on that housing horse once more. I submit our offers to our agent, reminding her we have excellent credit, will put down a sizable down payment, are renting and can move as quickly or as slowly as the seller wants...But I am no more nervous or excited about the offer than I am when I look at a lottery ticket. So, I am not surprised when our agent emails us back:

"She says your offer is much too low & the owners have decided not to counter offer at this time."

Well, that says it all.

Similar response for the other offer the next day:

"the owner will not come back with a counter offer, he feels it has been on the mkt such a short time & he has had a lot of interest so far & someone is coming for the second time this afternoon, also, he says he still has to put some money into it especially oil tank etc. "

Makes sense.

So here we are. Could we bid higher? Perhaps a little. Probably not enough to cause them to consider us any more seriously though. And should we come close to the asking price, we will end up struggling to pay bills, sitting in a candlelit room and contributing to the whole housing crisis we're currently trying to benefit from.

So the daunting task of cleaning out our small apartment guest room and turning it into a baby room is becoming more and more of a realization as I enter into my sixth month.

But really, when I think of the ultrasound where we saw our baby squirming around with his little legs curled over his face, when I feel him kicking me and pushing at me and banging into me because he is, after all, rather squashed in there...I imagine he will be quite happy to have a tiny apartment baby room.

And we will be quite happy to be able to afford car insurance and heat and an occasional Quizno's flatbread sandwich.

So while we did not "get" the houses, Everyone is right in one regard--that some things do work out for the best. Because Mike can tell you, renting or owning, I really do like my heat!

Pregnancy Week 21: What's the deal with Santa and Baby Boy Bouteneff?

2008-12-10T17:28:00.015-05:00

Yes, it's that magical time of the year again--and I don't say that with sarcasm-infused cheese dripping from my mouth. I actually mean it. I watch Elf and Love Actually every year. I love the smell of pine needles, the glow of the Christmas tree. I am happy White Plains put up their Christmas decorations back in October, and mall renditions of old carols make me feel warm and cozy. And of course, being a Christian, this is one of the most important times of the year to me for its true meaning. I love Christmas.

But Mike and I have been talking about the whole idea of Santa and how we may or may not impart that magic on our child. We both were raised with different ideas of Santa. So here are our backgrounds--

MIKE'S MEMORIES:
He never remembers believing in Santa Claus. In fact, he doesn't remember giving much thought to Santa one way or another. He doesn't recall talking to other kids about Santa, and when I ask if he ever wrote a letter to The Claus, he laughs at my absurd question, "No. I gave my list to my parents." He does remember he and his parents occasionally mentioning Santa, as in, "Oh, Santa is coming!" wink wink. nod nod. But the playful winks were from all three of them--Mike was just as much in on the "joke" as they were.

He remembers the excitement of his parents wrapping his gifts in the living room, telling him, "Don't come in here!" Then on Christmas Eve, they would load up the car with all the presents and head over to his grandparents' house. They'd put the gifts under the tree and open them at the appointed time. There was no mystery about how the gifts appeared under the tree. His parents bought them, wrapped them, put them in the car, and there they were.

On Christmas morning, Mike would open his stockings (he had a few), but when I ask him if he thought the stocking, at least, was from Santa, he says, "I know the presents are from my parents. So I'm really going to believe Santa comes and fills up the stocking? Um, no."

Despite his Santaless upbringing, he loved the holiday. "What kid doesn't?" he says to me. He enjoyed getting and decorating the tree, handing out gifts, playing with his toys, getting school off, being with his family. In all that, he never felt he needed the idea of Santa to make the holiday more fun for him.

TARA'S MEMORIES:
I, however, grew up believing in the white bearded man. Christmas Eve was one of the most exciting times of the year. We would go to a church service, then eat cheese, crackers and egg nog, while listening to the Nativity Story and acting out "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." Christmas morning, my brothers and I would race downstairs (6:30am was the earliest we were allowed to come down), tear into our stockings and bring our parents' stockings to their bedside. We'd then pass out the gifts and wait for our parents to get up. Santa had arrived.

Of course, as any kid, I probably had my doubts, but a few incidents helped solidify my belief. I wrote a letter to Santa once, asking him all the logical questions I could conjure--how reindeer could fly, how toys could be delivered in one night, etc. And I was filled with glee when Santa (a kindly old man who lived in town) wrote back answering all my questions to my satisfaction, and in a hand-writing that was not my mother's or father's.

Another year, when I was in kindergarten, we celebrated Christmas at my grandparents' house in North Carolina. Christmas came and went and all was fine, but I had not received the Barbie Bubble Bath that I had really wanted. A few days later, my mom came to me saying there was a gift left from last night by the tree. There was a letter from Santa (again, not my parents' handwriting) explaining how he found this one particular gift left at the bottom of his bag, which was meant for me (later, I learned it was a very popular item that year and my parents had to get a "raincheck" for the item). I opened the present and saw my very own barbie bath jacuzzi set. My eyes widened with excitement. I loved that bubble bath.

I eventually learned the truth about Santa, oddly enough, on one Easter afternoon. I had been having suspicions for a while about the whole Easter Bunny/Santa Claus/Tooth Fairy deal, and my parents would answer my questions "Is Santa real?" with evasive responses, such as, "Well, what do you think?" or "He's whatever you believe him to be" etc.

But this Easter, I wanted the straight out truth. I sat on my dad's lap and posed my question. "Is the Easter Bunny real?" After one or two times of his trying to avoid a direct answer, I said, "No, Dad. I want the truth. Just, is he real or not?"

Finally, my dad, with a bit of sadness in his voice, said, "No. He's not."

"So I guess that means Santa isn't real either then?"

"No," he paused. "He's not either."

I remember feeling sad, but not surprised. I knew logically, at this point, he was not real. But I liked believing he was, and until I knew for sure he was not real, there was hope in my heart. And that hope was a lot of fun.

I nodded to my dad. I didn't have any negative feelings toward my parents for encouraging this belief in Santa and I still don't today. It was a fun ride--all of it. And one that I knew, even that Easter Sunday, I could never, in my whole life, re-create.

SO:

Now we come to our question of how to raise our own child...With the belief in the magical existence of someone who gives a great deal of excitement and imagination, but who, ultimately, is not real? Or with the knowledge of what Christmas means, who St. Nicholas was, and to get credit for the good gifts ourselves?

For a while, I thought perhaps we would go with the second option. Maybe it is not the best thing to encourage a magical falsity, or at least, not whole-heartedly. But after speaking with new parents about how they are raising their children, how they remember Santa themselves, and from my own positive experience, I am leaning more toward allowing the fantasy. The fantasy comes with some inherent risks ("You lied to me!" "What else is not real then?" "I feel stupid for believing now!"), but it also lushes out creativity and sparks wonder.

Is it Kant who says it's ok to lie, as long as the person being lied to, if in the right state of mind, would want to be lied to? (i.e. It's ok to lie to Nazis who are looking for the Jewish person you are hiding in your attic, because if the Nazis were of the right mind, they would want to be lied to, in order to save a person's life, as that is more important than telling the truth.)

There is an interesting story in This American Life where a girl's father begins leaving her little notes around the house from The Borrowers which she believes are 4-inch tall people. Daughter and father share a wonderful experience of back and forth letter-writing and he even drops little clues around the house to insinuate a Borrower has been present. This is carried on for quite some time until the truth comes out, and the girl is left with very mixed emotions. But in the end, she would never trade that experience for the truth.

So...what would little Baby Bouteneff want? He's making a lot of movements now...kick once for Santa, twice for no Santa...he just kicked 4 times in a row...hm...

In any case, for one more Christmas, our immediate (out-of-womb) family is just two. Mike and me. And Santa, or no, I still love that magical feeling of Christmas. And so does Mike. I mean, if this (below) doesn't say Christmas spirit, what does?

(Regarding the pictures, I just have to point out, since I'm all into the belly: The first picture, by the tree, was taken 2 days before the second picture. But in the first, you can see a clear belly bump! The second is not as obvious. Again, I guess having a bare belly and taking pictures in the morning make it a little more difficult to see the distinction, compared to a full belly with a top on.)

Pregnancy Week 20: 5th Doctor's appointment

2008-12-03T16:40:00.005-05:00

We go to our OB for our 5th appointment today. He checks in on how I am doing. We ask a few questions. I tell Mike in the car that I am going to show our 3d picture of our baby to the doctor. I say, "He may not care, or maybe a lot of people do that, but I'm going to anyway."

And so I do. He proves polite and says, sure he would like to see it. He says he wonders what the pictures look like these days from the screening, so apparently other patients do not show him their baby images. He is a good sport.

Mike asks him a question I have coached him on. I want to know our doctor's c-section rate, but since I already asked a similar question to that at our initial visit, I suggest Mike ask it now. Mike does, on cue, and our doctor pulls a clever one. "Well, let's talk about the likelihood of your having a c-section."

Yes, he avoids the question. And yes, neither Mike nor I have the energy to pursue it further. Suffice it to say, his rate must be high. Greenwich and Stamford, CT both have good hospitals but are right up there with the national average of 40% c-section.

He is encouraging with me, however, saying unless there is an unforeseen problem (hemhorraging or something), I have a very slight chance of having a c-section. He further explains various reasons for having c-sections and the small chance of that happening to me.

All in all, again, a pleasant visit. There are no tests or screenings coming up before my next visit, so I leave with nothing but a few pamphlets on local doula agencies from his office (yes, I'm thinking of having a doula, and very glad my doctor is so open to and supportive of that).

Our 20 week anatomy screening: We find out the sex of our baby

2008-12-02T21:16:00.000-05:00

Tuesday, December 2, is the day we have been waiting for. 2pm: Our anatomy screening. We will make sure all is going well with the baby's development, and we will also find out the sex of our baby.

Mike takes the day off of work and I leave my job early to race home and meet him, so we can drive up together. I am a bit stressed at first, as we get a later start than I had hoped. We misunderstand each other about what directions to take, and I have not eaten lunch (thank goodness for that smoothie from work). But we get out the door, into the car, and try to relax. Mike is very excited. I am excited, but I am anxious. We arrive at the facility on time, and Mike videotapes our waiting at the office. I am too anxious to talk, I tell him, so he narrates the beginning of our adventure.

After we check in, we wait in a lobby until a woman with a thick accent comes out to explain she is finishing her internship and will do the "first photographs" then "Kararah" (or Kara, or a name like that--I never did understand what she said) will finish. "Okay," I say a bit hesitantly.

We walk into the ultrasound room, and the lights are dim. It's cozy in here. They are smart to keep the lights low, not only so that we can watch the screens better, but to give a calming yet exciting energy to the room. I think I want my delivery to be in a dimly lit room too.

I lay back, am slathered with goo, and we start seeing our baby. We can see so much more than the last time, 8 weeks ago. The ribs stand out to me, the black "hole" that is the stomach, the bladder. We see the umbilical cord, the head, 5 fingers on a hand, a clear foot.

I ask the intern if she can tell what sex the baby is, and she says, "Oh yes, but I cannot tell you. That is for Kararah/Kara to say."

I think I see a little something between the baby's legs, but I am too untrained to know what is what.

The intern takes dozens of pictures and explains the various parts (although "Kara" later corrects her on one of the names she has typed onto the screen). We watch on a tv screen in front of us, while she points out body parts on her own screen, which does not face us. But I appreciate her effort.

After about 20 minutes (Mike filming the whole time), the mysterious "Kara" person comes in. She seems young and relaxed, like a friend, and we find the whole process with her resembling something familiar. We tell her we want to know the sex, we joke about the care bear poll on our blog, we talk about old wives' tales to tell the sex of the baby (she has an interesting eye-lid one), and I find the experience quite pleasant.

Five minutes into her time doing the ultrasound on me, she focuses her image on the baby's butt. I'll let the video take over as to what happens in the next 60 seconds...

So it is official! We are having a baby boy! Lying on the patient's bed, I tear up thinking about this; we are one step closer to knowing our baby. I feel a gush of momentous reality wash over me...we are having a son. I grab Mike's hand (the one he's not using to videotape) and hold it for a few minutes. He kisses me and we laugh and smile.

I must admit, that while the poll closed with "girl" beating "boy" by 2 votes, most people whom I see on a regular basis have been saying boy lately. The wives' tales pointed to boy, there are a lot of first born boys on Mike's and my side of the family. I am not surprised that we are having a son.

However...there was some part of me that still thought we might be having a girl. Perhaps I would have felt the same if we found out we were having a daughter. I really did not know, so no matter which way it went, I would not be surprised...yet also be a little surprised. That's the nature of 50/50, I guess!

Just knowing what we are having though has made it a bit more real. It's still surreal, and, as I said before, I don't think that is going to change any time soon, but I do feel somehow different. I know I have a little boy inside of me, and that just feels... different...As they said in Sex and the City, when Miranda found out she was having a boy, "You have a little penis inside of you!" Yes, I do!

So take a look at our handsome little boy in his 5th month of life! He was a bit camera-shy, putting his arms, then his legs, over his face. But "Kararhahahrah" managed to get one nice profile shot with his fist to his face with the 4D (real time) imaging. I think he looks like Mike already! We love our little boy!

Pregnancy Week 20: We'll find out the sex of our baby tomorrow!

2008-12-01T15:00:00.002-05:00

Yes, we'll mark the half-way point of my pregnancy with finding out the first big mystery--what the sex our baby is! Then we will have to wait another 20 weeks before we encounter the answer to our next big mystery...who our little baby is!

But for now, we will get a Christmas tree, eat Thanksgiving leftovers (thanks, Bouteneff family!), go to the chiropractor's, work, and wait. Until 2pm tomorrow...

So get your last minute votes in now! Girl or boy? What do you think?? As of now, the poll is completely tied between girl and boy (no, carebear is not winning)...Someone has got to tip the scale...

Pregnancy Week 19: People are noticing my pregnancy belly...

2008-11-26T18:30:00.010-05:00

Yes, now it's really official. From my friends to my mother-in-law, people think I look pregnant. In the last week or two, it seems I've hit an onslaught of people saying, "Wow! You really are showing!"

I am also starting to wear tightly fit sweaters, which helps show off my "fashionable bump." (One of my pregnant friends pointed out that it is less noticeable in my pictures online here, since I'm not wearing a fitted top)

In fact, this week, I have my first experience with an acquaintance thinking I look pregnant.

So this guy who sees me a few times a week at the yoga studio/juice bar starts up a conversation seeing a pamphlet on hypo-birthing. He makes a joke about it and I say, "Yeah, I know someone who is doing that right now."

He suddenly feels bad he's made fun of it, and I quickly put him at ease. "Oh, I don't care. I'm not doing it, but it's working for her." Then I add, "I'm 4 1/2 months pregnant myself."

And as I say this, he sort of looks at me with this interested but stoic expression. I'm thinking, poor cute guy. He thinks he's offended me. But I am a little surprised by his seemingly reserved response (he's usually very personable).

Then he breaks into a smile and explains. I guess he's just been taking it in, because he says, "I thought you were pregnant! But I didn't want to say anything, just in case. But I thought you were pregnant!"

"Really? You're the first person who's thought that just from seeing me! Or at least who's told me!"

"Well, it's only because you're so tiny normally, so it's easier to see. Congratulations!"

Not only am I looking pregnant, but I also feel the baby moving every day, reminding me that there really is a living being inside of me. I look pregnant, and I might be actually starting to feel pregnant. I was taking a shower last night and tried to suck in my stomach. Seeing how I could no longer do that like I used to made me grin with the excitement of Christmas. There's a bell pepper-sized baby in there! I always know that I am pregnant, but it's in these small moments, when it truly hits me, for a brief second--the life-changing aspect of this experience, this event. And it always sends my stomach fluttering, my mouth gaping, and my eyes wide.

Of course, there are still times when my whole being cannot wrap itself around the intensity of being pregnant. It is just so huge, so vast, and for now, somewhat muted, in my control. There is no crying or giggling baby, I can go where I please when I please, I can still simply take care of myself and Mike. Yes, I take prenatal vitamins for the baby, I don't drink for the baby, we sing to the baby (we are adding new songs to our repertoire each week), we read to the baby, talk to the baby. But these are still our own self-started actions. We are not reacting or responding to a live being we can see or hear in front of us. And, like the idea of death, I don't know if I can truly understand the concept of creating life. It happens, I am part of it, I understand it on a human realistic level (i.e. I am not out of touch with reality, thinking life and death don't happen), but it amazes me beyond my human comprehension.

Again, I am struck with how lucky I am to experience this. And I don't think I do need to comprehend it completely, because, all science aside, it is truly a little miracle. And that's what miracles are--the incomprehensible and amazing. And that's what our baby is to us...

The Baby Packs a Punch..!

2008-11-20T21:03:00.004-05:00

[posted by Mike]
Well, as those of you following us here know, Tara felt the baby for the first time about 6 days go, on Friday. Today, I got to share a little...

I was typing away about something mindless, and Tara called me over, "Mike, if you come quick you might feel the baby!" I'd heard this before, and had not yet succeeded, and was also in the middle of a sentence about 'social media marketing', so I continued to type. (The best husband in the world, I am not.) Then she said, "I just felt it again!" Then again, "Again!"

I added a period to whatever I was writing, pushed my $10 Walmart 'office chair' away from my computer, and walked over to Tara to place my hand on her sexy belly, like she showed me.

Within seconds, WHAM! It felt like someone had just lightly tapped on the inside of Tara's belly with their finger. My eyes widened a bit, and I laughed out of surprise. WHAM! "Oh sh#t!" I said. We both laughed a bunch more, and I gave Tara a kiss.

I really had no idea I'd be able to feel the baby this early...sweet!

Pregnancy Week 18: I feel the baby moving!

2008-11-19T19:30:00.007-05:00

So this weekend, I have one of those life experiences that, at 31, I can still say is a "first" for me. Yes, I finally feel the baby move inside of me!

I have felt little sensations before, unsure of what I'm feeling, but this time, it is different.

While my parents are visiting, on Friday, we go to White Plains. We have lunch out at 42 (a window-filled restaurant on the 42nd floor of the new Trump Tower), then walk around the city for a bit. We drive around and make a quick stop at a store. Mike runs in to get something, and my parents and I sit in the car.

I suddenly feel a little poke very low in my belly. My eyes widen--again, that internal dramatic "movie moment". My parents keep talking. I have never felt this before. It is not the feeling of "butterflies in my stomach" or "popcorn" or "bubbles" as some have described. It really just feels like a little push, a tap, someone very very tiny bumping into me from the inside.

"I think I may have just felt the baby move..." I say hesitantly.

My mom exclaims and is excited. She lives almost 6 hours away, so I am happy she can be here when I first experience this. I am excited too, but I can't believe it. When Mike returns to the car, I tell him the same thing, still using the words "think" and "may." His eyes widen too and he says, "Really??"

But I think I am still not certain. Really, I am certain, but in the same way I spoke in "ifs" and "maybes" that first night after seeing the positive pregnancy test, I feel the need to use these tentatives now, as well. (Yes, I just turned "tentative" into a noun) Later that night, while we are watching the movie, The Changeling, I feel this movement again. It is an intense movie, but I whisper to Mike that I think I am feeling the baby move. My hand has been on my belly and I have felt a little "tap" from the outside. He puts his hand on my belly, but it will probably be a while before he can feel the movements. We try nonetheless!

From that night on, I begin to notice these moments of movement. When we are sitting in an off-broadway theatre watching Little Red Riding Hood sing in her wolf-skin cape in Into The Woods, when I am sitting in church listening to the words of Rob Morris and his organization, Love 146, when I am facebooking on my laptop, when I'm watching reruns of King of the Hill on tv. It comes when I am still (the baby is awake and I am quiet yet alert enough to notice), and it feels like a little flutter of movement, or occasionally a real poke or push.

I have a lot of control over the various muscles in my body, and ever since I have been a child, I have made it my mission to learn how to isolate and flex individual muscles. If there was one muscle I could not move unless I moved another muscle, I would work hard to separate the two until I could control each individually. I remember being a very small child, sitting in my car seat (so younger than 4 or 5 probably), and leaning my face against one side of the car seat in order to keep one eye closed, while keeping the other open. I would practice this for as long as the car rides were to understand how to relax one eyelid muscle, while flexing the other eyelid muscle. I gradually used the side of the car seat less and less, and through this practice, I eventually learned how to wink each eye.

So controlling the movements of my body is something I have found fascinating, a challenge, and rewarding once I achieve my goal. But this--the movements inside of me, the pushing, the kicking, the poking--all what happens now and is to come--as exciting and novel as they are, these are things I cannot control that are directly affecting me.

I guess that is a lesson I'll need to be learning a lot in the months and years to come, so I suppose starting now is not such a bad idea...

(btw--both of these pictures were taken at the same time, but I think it's interesting, because in the second picture, probably because it's more of a profile and my hand is not on my belly, I feel like my belly is a little triangle--it just pops out below my belly button, like something is sticking out of it!)

Other children in the world...

2008-11-16T23:22:00.006-05:00

While Mike and I are, naturally, focusing a lot of our child-energy on our own little womb baby, we have an experience today that reminds me of the vast needs for children throughout the world. I am referring to a specific crime against children, and a specific charity championing for the children--and I think is important enough to share with my fellow baby-followers out there.

Today, Mike and I, along with my parents, who are visiting, and Mike's parents, who live nearby, go to Gracepoint Fellowship Church in Rockland County. We go there occasionally because the music is good, the church is full of warmth, and the pastor is incredible. When he preaches, he is interesting, engaging, and always shows us something new. We leave the church feeling inspired--never down on ourselves or negatively critical, but rather uplifted and ready to make positive changes. For those of you who go to church, or have been, you probably know, this is actually a difficult task to achieve--I have been to many churches where they make you feel bad about your life, they are too "over-the-top" or radical for me, the pastors seem out of touch with the world, or more frequently, I am simply bored and get nothing out of the experience.

But today, the experience has my total attention. There is a guest speaker, Rob Morris*, who is the president and co-founder of Justice for Children International, recently renamed Love 146. Love 146 is a not-for-profit organization which works toward the abolition of child slavery and sex trafficking. Rob is careful to point out that while 2 children are sold per minute into slavery, his organization is not working to merely minimize statistics--they are working toward completely abolishing this crime. The charity works mostly in East Asia (where Rob and his wife have adopted children) from a two-fold approach:

1) Prevention: Through raising awareness and reducing the risk for children in "high traffic" areas.
2) Aftercare: "training caregivers, providing safehomes and researching best practices for aftercare."

Rob's stories are heart-wrenching, but hopeful. There is much pain and struggle, but there are positive outcomes and resilience. Rob shares about how they discovered many sex traffickers were gaining business by advertising on Craiglist. Love 146, along with other organizations and state attorneys general, petitioned to have Craigslist put safeguards in place to deter criminals from using the site. Apparently, Craigslist resisted this for a few years, but just recently conceded to add safety features to cut down on the number of sex crimes advertised (the article mentions nothing of the resistance to putting these into effect--probably not something Craigslist advertises, but regardless, the outcome is positive). This also hits home, that while brothels and child slavery do exist in large numbers in Southeast Asia, they exist in the US, as well.

Here is a video in which Rob speaks about his experience seeing a child-brothel, and how the organization was formed:

Rob talks about how it is a challenge to engage in the issue of sex trafficking since most of us do not have a personal involvement (we become involved in issues of cancer or AIDS oftentimes when we know someone who has cancer or AIDS, etc.). While most of us will probably never know someone who has been involved in sex trafficking, this video is Love 146's small attempt to have you put yourself in the place of a child and imagine what it is is like in theory (or at least pull on your heartstrings with the music and printed narration):

I am not really sure how to end a post like this, so I guess I'll just leave it at that.

*Note: The link is to when Rob spoke at the church 2 years ago. The current talk is not uploaded yet on the church's website.

Pregnancy Week 17: Flu shot drama

2008-11-12T15:30:00.003-05:00

I have been hearing a lot about how pregnant women should receive the flu shot, as they are considered "high risk" since their immune systems are lowered (interesting enough, I recently read the reason the immune system lowers is to prevent it from attacking the developing baby--makes getting a cold seem more noble!). I've read about it on the internet, and my OB recommended it. Of course, since there is all this debate out there about mercury in shots for children, I figure there ought to be for pregnant women who are carrying children, as well.

My friend, Laurie, helps me research it a little and finds that there are basically 3 types of flu shots:
1) No thimerosal (the mercury-based preservative). This is what they give to children now.
2) Trace amount of thimerosal, but considered to be negligible.
3) A larger amount of thimerosal (probably the cheapest, given out at clinics, like CVS etc).

So, I decide I will get a flu shot as long as it is thimerosal-free, or contains only trace amounts. I call my doctor's office and the woman on the phone has no idea what kind of flu shot they have at their office. She says I can make an appointment and ask the doctor. I decide chances are decent that they'll have one of the better shots (this is the Westchester Medical Group, after all--filled with wealthy suburban moms who must be as concerned as I am), so I don't bother trying to speak to a doctor on the phone ahead of time, and simply to go my appointment.

Once in the exam room, I tell the nurse what I'm looking for. Immediately, she says, "We just have the regular shots."

"You don't even have the trace amount one?"

"No. And it's gonna take you a long time to get one of those. Do you wanna talk to the doctor anyway?"

"Yes," I sigh. Might as well.

The doctor enters and I tell him I'm pregnant, want the flu shot, but don't want the full amount of thimerosal in the shot.

And here begins his convincing/bullying:

He starts out by giving me his opinion based on government research. "There is nothing wrong with the flu shot. It's perfectly safe for pregnant women."

I tell him my opinion. "Well, given the debate about mercury in shots, and since I'm pregnant, I'd just rather not take that chance. If it were just me, I wouldn't care, but since I have a growing baby, I'd like the mercury-free shot."

Clearly, I am not responsive to pure facts, so he tries another approach. "Do you eat fish?"

"Not the kind that has mercury in it, not while I'm pregnant. No. And do you know how much mercury is in one fish compared to how much is in a shot?" (I mean, hey, if it's the same amount, that's one thing, but if it's concentrated and 100x the amount, that's certainly another)

"No, I don't know the exact amount."

Mm hm.

He uses another comparison. "Well, do you walk down the street? You know you're inhaling exhaust and all kinds of metals then. Mercury is just another metal."

"That may be," I say. "But I can't do anything about the exhaust fumes in the air. I can do something about this shot, so why not do the least risky thing, since I have a choice?"

He takes another angle. "Regardless, your body is very well equipped to get rid of toxins. Very little of it will actually stay in you or reach the fetus."

"Maybe, but I'd still rather put in as few toxins as possible if I have the choice."

He argues with me a little bit more and seems a bit annoyed with me. I'm sure he is hoping I will break down, get the shot, and make this easier on all of us. And I can see how some people might, since he is quite the badger.

Finally, I take one for the team and label myself something I don't believe I am, "Look. Call me a crazy pregnant woman, but I want the mercury-free or trace amount of mercury shot. Can you order it for me, or tell me somewhere else I can get it?"

Then he concedes. "Well, I guess pregnant women all have their own worries. I can order it for you."

So I take the little condescending remark and smile. "I really appreciate it."

I walk out to the waiting room, he tells the receptionist to refund my copay since he was not able to help me (I do appreciate this, because $20 for an argument does not seem right), then a minute later, he returns. He tells me the shot is back-ordered and he doesn't know when it'll be in. He suggests I check in the next week. I thank him and receive my $20 refund.

So now, 2 weeks have passed and still no mercury-free flu shot. I will call again today or tomorrow to check in.

I really wonder why they are so in demand, I wonder why they even make them at all, if there is no purpose for having these shots mercury-free? I wonder...

When I come home and tell Mike what happened, he says, "Thank you for protecting our baby!" and hugs me.

And he's not even a "crazy pregnant woman." :)

4th Doctor's Appointment

2008-11-05T22:49:00.005-05:00

Our 16 week OB appointment is probably the least eventful we've had so far, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, I suppose. The visit starts out when Mike and I are shown into an exam room. I sit on the paper-covered table and Mike plops himself down on the rolling stool with wheels. We talk and wait for the doctor to come in as usual.

A few minutes later, the doctor arrives. He stares at Mike for a beat as he makes his way into the room and remains standing, seeming uncertain of something. Mike pushes himself around in the stool a bit, stretching his legs out; he's having good time. The doctor looks at Mike, then looks at the plastic chair in the corner, then to Mike again, then the chair in the corner. Mike notices he is looking a bit annoyed, and suddenly realizes why. "Oh, you probably want your seat, huh?" He asks. Immediately, the doctor nods and points at the stationary chair, "Yeah, why don't we swap here?"

I laugh, as I hadn't thought about the fact that Mike was wheeling himself around in the doctor's mobile stool before, but it is a rather comical site.

Then I explain how I have been feeling under the weather this week--sometimes feeling quite nauseous (that hang-over feeling of being dizzy too), feeling sooo tired (and of course, still not sleeping well despite that), with a headache, and sometimes fever. It hasn't turned into a full blown cold, but it's made me feel lousy all week. I am starting to wonder if this is what some women feel during their first trimester. I have been so happy to have escaped my first 3+ months feeling fine, but now am not so certain this doesn't have to do with pregnancy...time will tell, I suppose.

My doctor gives me some advice on this, and advice on sleeping, including various options of medicines/herbs I can take. I am still wary of taking anything for my sleeping problems, but I think I might break down and try something in the next month. There have been days or weeks at a time where I will wake up every hour for most of the night, or receive only 2-4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. It still remains frustrating.

Our real excitement of this appointment is that we hear the heart beat for the first time. Up until now, we have seen the heart beating with the ultrasounds, but never actually heard it before. It's a swishing sound, almost like the ocean.

Below is a video of a fetal heartbeat I found on youtube. It is NOT our baby's heartbeat, but it gives the basic idea of what it sounds like (we need to remember to videotape our next appointments!).

He gives us a number for the hospital so we can schedule our anatomy screening (which is also where we can find out the sex). When we schedule the appointment, I am disappointed to learn the earliest they have available is December 2, which is the latest end of our window of time to have the screening. Ah, well. More time for people to get in their votes!

BTW--I've switched my header countdown ticker. The panda/quilt ticker has been traded up for a cleaner look. Thanks to Robyn for that ticker!

A New Song...

2008-11-04T11:25:00.001-05:00

[wrtten by Mike]
I love it when a moment in time injects within you with enough inspiration to let a little creativity pour fourth. (That last sentence was not an example of creativity, but cheese.) What better than a growing little baby to shake things up -- a few weeks ago, I thought it'd be great to write a song for ours. ...I guess you might say, the inspiration here wasn't quite as sudden, as I sort of 'decided' to write a song, rather than just started 'writing' one. In any case, I'd love to write something sweet, simple, perhaps lullabye-like, without too much lyrical depth or chord progression craziness to distract.

The good news is, I found a nice little finger-picking guitar 'lick' and some lyrics to go with it that should form a seed capapble of growing a little "song-plant". My first 7 lines of lyrics seem to be passing the "don't make me puke" test, so that's good. But it'll sound even sweeter now, as Tara will help me finish writing it and record it -- our first duet!

Our first song dedicated to the new baby. (And potential blackmail material for when the child enters teen-hood and adult-hood.) Wish us luck!

Pregnancy Week 16--Cast your vote!

2008-11-03T21:21:00.006-05:00

I'm not talking McCain or Obama here (although do that too)...I'm talking XX or XY, people!

Yes, Mike and I are finding out the sex of our baby! I could say we debated the issue--that we thought about the pros and cons of each possibility, that we discussed it with each other, slept on it, and made a well-thought of decision. But we really just both said, "Yeah, why not?"

We will definitely have enough surprise and excitement the day of delivery that we don't feel we're gypping ourselves of that experience. Sure, it's convenient to know if we're having a boy or girl so we can prepare with clothing, get a room ready knowing what colors we might want, and start narrowing down names. Mostly though, I think it will just feel more real to both of us. Our baby will be a "she" or a "he." And we'll have less of a chance slipping up and calling the baby an "it."

And I love seeing how excited Mike is when he thinks about it. Obviously he is involved and happy we are having a baby, but he is so excited when he mentions finding out the sex. And that makes me even more excited.

So cast your vote now (in the column to the right)! We'll be finding out the sex in about 3 weeks. In the mean time, consider the outcome of the following Old Wives' Tales for predicting the sex of your unborn baby!

1) How you are showing:
-Belly only--Boy
-All over (or a full face)--Girl
Outcome: I am definitely starting to show now (the baby is the size of an avocado, 4-5 inches "head to rump"!), and so far, it's pretty much limited to my belly, although not at all sure it will stay that way, but we'll say that for now.
=BOY

2) Fetal Heartbeat:
-Under 140--Boy
-Over 140--Girl
Outcome: Last we checked, the heartbeat was around 170 or so.
=GIRL

3) Sweet or Sour/Salty Cravings:
-Crave sweet things--Girl
-Crave sour/salty things--Boy
Outcome: Pretty mixed here, but I guess I'd opt for salty since hummus and crackers seem to be my meal of choice right now.
=BOY

4) Picking up a key:
-Pick it up at the round end--Boy
-Pick it up at the thin end--Girl
Outcome: I picked it at the round end. Can't even imagine picking it up at the thin end.
=BOY

5) Mother's intuition:
-If the pregnant mother thinks she's having a boy--Boy
-If the pregnant mother thinks she's having a girl--Girl
Outcome: I really am not thinking strongly either way, but if I had to choose, I'd say girl.
=GIRL
(btw--this is the most accurate, as mothers guess correctly 71% of the time!)

6) Pendulum swing:
-If a pendulum over the woman's head swings in a back and forth motion-Boy
-If it swings in a circular motion--Girl
Outcome: It swung side-to-side.
=BOY

7) Chinese Zodiac Sex Predictor:
Compare the number of the month you conceived with the age you were when you conceived.
-If both numbers are even or both are odd--Boy
-If one is odd and the other even--Girl
Outcome: Conceived in month 7, was 31 years old. Both odd.
=BOY

8) Online "Boy or Girl" quiz:
I took a quiz which asked a variety of questions, including some of the issues I bring up here, but others as well, like, "Does your pillow face north or south?" "Are your feet colder than before?" "Do you eat the heel of a loaf of bread?"
Outcome: 50% BOY, 50% GIRL

So those are the "facts." Now you can make an informed decision when you vote. :)

Updating old posts--the "real" story

2008-11-01T18:36:00.000-04:00

So I actually only started this blog around week 14, at the beginning of my second trimester. All the posts I wrote before that, I wrote quickly in one day, to catch this blog up to speed. This was great to get dates recorded, pictures online, and important moments noted, but I didn't spend much time writing the details (or even proofreading the words!).

I finally have gone through all the old important posts and re-written them with more details. You can read the posts on how Mike and I found out I was pregnant, the tale of telling our families, friends finding out, our first, second or third doctor's appointments, see more pictures from Las Vegas, and any other number of updated posts. Enjoy!

Pregnancy Week 15--Yes, I have a pregnancy belly! (well, sort of)

2008-10-29T23:50:00.002-04:00

So I'm 15 weeks pregnant now--over a week into my fourth month, and yes, I finally have a little belly (and I'm giving you 3 pictures to prove it). I guess it's about time, but apparently I'm still adjusting. Because--

Last night, after dinner and a shower, I'm walking around the apartment and Mike sees me from a distance. "Your belly really is a little out there now," he says. Of course, I've been telling him this for days, but when he now agrees with me, I narrow my eyes and make a scowling face.

He rushes over to me, grabs and kisses me, caressing my stomach. "I love it! It is soo cute and sexy! I can't wait to see your belly grow!"

I then "defend" my belly in a strange way. "It's just there because I ate a lot of hummus and drank so much water!"

I instantly smile at the oddness of my saying this.

"I don't know why I just said that," I tell him. "It is the baby. Of course, I would rather it be the baby than food. You'd think I'd want to argue it the other way around." Then I get defensive again, egged on by absolutely nothing. "I mean, I am over three months. A lot of people are showing more than me at this point, so it's perfectly normal to have a little belly now. It's just going to get bigger," I state the obvious.

"I know," Mike says. "Of course it's the baby. The baby needs somewhere to go. I love it," he emphasizes. He's a good guy.

My chiropractor lowers the belly part of his table for me yesterday. My friend at work today says she can finally see I am pregnant (then perhaps sensing my unfounded fear to hear this, she stresses that I'm normally so thin, which is how she can tell). So I guess it's out there. My belly, that is.

So obviously, I have my moments of feeling weird about it, but then I have a lot of moments where I am loving it, look at it in the mirror and smile, eager for it to grow even more.

Of course, I do think people who don't know me would assume I just ate a little too much hummus, but for those who have observed my abs more frequently, yes, they are a' changing!

The "Message in a Baby Bottle" Project - Launched!

2008-10-29T22:34:00.004-04:00

[by Mike]
Tara and I, while wandering about in Fishkill, NY a month or two ago, bought a little baby bottle with the idea of turning it into a little place to collect messages for the baby.

However, as of today, it was still wrapped and unopened. (Like I said, I'm so glad Tara started this blog!)

Fortunately, as of 10 minutes ago (I got a little inspired), it is now up and running -- presenting the "Message in a Baby Bottle" bottle! We've got a bottle, multi-colored post-it note squares, and a pen on our dining room table for anyone to write a little message for the baby at any time. Fun!

A Word From Tara's Husband...

2008-10-29T21:41:00.006-04:00

[by Mike]
Hooray! My first post. First, an ENORMOUS thanks to Tara for starting this blog; I'm so, so glad we (she) kicked this project off. (Thanks, Babester!)

Where to start. How 'bout a stream-of-conciousness, shot gun approach to set the scene? So, I'm reading about "Month 4" in The Expectant Father (thanks to Jay, Dan, Kat, Mike M, another Mike M, for the referral). I'm incredibly excited about learning whether our little baby is a boy or girl. I'm incredibly lucky to have such a wonderful mom-to-be as my wife. I'll stay away from "global depression"-related topics for now... What else? A ginormous election (but you folks know all that). SNL is hilarious. Tara and I are writing a song. We're still looking for a house...however, our real estate-related dialog has morphed from "...if we move into Stamford, CT, we'll afford more room for our growing family.." to "...if we move the bed out of the guest room, we'll have some room for a crib...".

But enough of that money stuff. (Sorry, "Month 4" in TEF is all about college funds, investments, and money...)

So, I'm going to be a father. Crazy. Hopefully, it's okay that I still think NHL '94 is the best video game ever, and am still willing to perform the 'Monkey Dance' when Tara prompts me... But it certainly is a different thing when a little life is in your hands. But then, I'm really not one to talk about any of this yet, since I'm not there; I need to earn the badge first. So we'll stop immediately. (I salute all the many proud dads I know!)

Quick Question: Will I still be able to call Tara "Babe" and "Babester" once we have a baby?

Well, that's it. That's my glorious first random post/rant. NOW LET'S GET PUMPED!!

Yes, Mike's the father...

2008-10-25T09:16:00.002-04:00

Mike is reading The Expectant Father, and one short section refers to the irrational fears some men have that they are not the father of the baby. It tends to stem from a feeling of inadequacy or insecurity, i.e.: "I can't be good enough to have made that baby, so someone else must have done the job."

Mike hasn't felt this way (he's a secure guy), but we did have someone doubt his paternity the other day...our doctor!

So my blood type is A negative. Over 85% of people are positive (10th grade Genetics reminds me it's dominant), so chances are our baby would be positive, as well. This could cause a problem, as if my blood mixes with the baby's blood, my body would see the baby as an intruder and try to attack it (which could cause brain damage and even death). Once these antibodies are formed, they are there forever, so all subsequent pregnancies would be very high-risk.

Luckily, there is a shot that I will receive at 28 weeks and at delivery, which solves this. It's basically rh positive blood from donors which prevents my body from making the deadly antibodies. (Btw--this does not happen when the mother is rh positive and the baby is negative.)

Of course, I'm not too keen on other people's blood being injected in me unnecessarily, and I read that if the father is also rh negative, then the baby would be rh negative (again, Genetics). No shot needed; no antibodies would form. Rh negative won't attack rh negative.

So Mike and I are at our last OB appointment, and I bring this up to the doctor. I tell him Mike doesn't know his blood type, but should we get him tested to see if he's negative to know if I actually need the shots. He cuts me off pretty quickly with that train of thought.

"Well, even if he is negative, we still would give you the shot anyway," he says.

"Why?" I ask. These doctors and their shots...I tell ya!

Then, with a mixture of matter-of-factness and sheepishness, he states, "In case he's not the father."

??

Okay...

Mike and I smile at each other and kind of laugh. I think Mike or the doctor makes a joke about the milkman, and I assure Mike he is, indeed, the father.

I thought that was interesting though...I met a woman in Las Vegas who was rh negative and her OB said the same thing to her! So I guess doctors figure, better be safe than sorry!

But when the baby comes out of the womb, grabbing a guitar with one hand and a blog with the other hand, then any of Mike's fears will be laid to rest...

Yes, Mike! No need to be suspicious, what with your Hoover Dam security signs and all. This baby is yours! :)