2 Week Wait

Today was supposed to be my 40 week appointment. Instead it was changed to my 2 week incision check and J's 2 week well baby check up. It's crazy, since I was pretty sure I'd still be pregnant at 40 weeks, 1 day. Bobby's work had a pool guessing gender, weight, height, and birthdate. I laughed at anyone who had me going early. I told Bobby to guess April 24. Even that seemed ambitious. J was born April 8. I cannot believe I have had a baby for 2 weeks - or really that I have a baby at all. This was the fastest 2 week wait ever!

I'm working on a post about post partum necessities and things I've learned (and wished someone would have told me before), but it takes awhile to get things typed up since I'm now blogging almost exclusively from my phone during overnight feedings. Not the easiest way to get things written.

My incision is apparently healing amazingly well according to the PA I saw. I finally got up the courage to look at it when I got home and it does look pretty good. Just like a purple line drawn with a pencil. The stretch marks and little pooch above it are another story. However I'm only 7 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight, so I'm not too upset. Except my official pre-pregnancy weight was about 10-20 pounds higher than my ideal weight, so I still have quite a bit of work to do.

My appointment was at 3, and Baby J's was as at 3:30, so the plan was for Bobby to get J's insurance info and registration figured out during my appointment, and I would be done in plenty of time to see Dr G with them. Except they got called back early, so by the time I was done, a nurse had to go find them and bring me to their room. She warned me that "He's had an eventful day."

I didn't know what that meant, but I walked in to see a frazzled looking Bobby holding a diapered J with a burp cloth over his belly, the contents of our diaper bag scattered on the floor.

Before I go on, I have to explain that J is such a good baby. He rarely cries or fusses, even when he's being passed around. And he's never spit up before.

However, apparently he'd vomited for the first time just seconds before he got called back for his appointment. And then again while Bobby was cleaning him up. As Bobby was undressing him, J's umbilical cord stump fell off and bled. Then he projectile pooped while being weighed (naked, of course). As Bobby and the nurse cleaned him up, he then peed all over both of them and his clothes. And vomited once more on Bobby, just for good measure.

I missed all of this while I was at my incision check. Poor Bobby felt like he was in a Hugh Grant movie, except he was much less charmingly befuddled.

J has had some issues already - he had to have a tongue tie clipped at 6 days, as he had lost 12% of his birth rate early on. It didn't help that my milk didn't come in for a full five days either. He also failed the hearing test in his right ear several times, so we have and audiologist appointment next month. Today Dr G also found an issue with his circumcision, so had to fix that (so painful looking, poor baby screamed so much!), and he has a bit of skin irritation around his neck that we have to have rechecked later this week.

Sometimes it feels like we can't catch a break, but I know that all in all we're really lucky. There are so many babies sicker and with much bigger problems than ours. We are so grateful for our little boy and how healthy and happy he is.

At least when he's not painting the doctor's office with his body fluids.

A Baby Story

The story of Jack's birth starts with my 38 week appointment on Tuesday. When Dr G felt around my belly for his position, he noted that baby was really low in my pelvis - which was a good improvement from the week before. But then he frowned. Once again, my "good amount of ab definition" was having him second guess whether baby was really head down. This is still hilarious to me, because even not pregnant, I have roughly the ab definition of the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

However we moved on to the cervical check. Dr. G stuck pretty much his entire fist up to his elbow inside me and felt around. He couldn't get a good feeling on the skull line, but he wasn't sure he was feeling a butt either. So he sent me for an ultrasound.

The ultrasound quickly confirmed what I dreaded. Baby was breech.

We then met with the head of the OB department,  Dr R, to go over our options: basically attempt an ECV, schedule a c-section for 39.5 weeks, or wait to go into labor on my own and then get a c-section.

Well, none of these options were really what I was planning on my baby's birth to look like. I was pretty disappointed and totally unsure of what to do. I almost wrote a blog post about everything to get your thoughts, but I was still too shocked and unsure to put anything into words.

The ECV had risks and I knew it was painful. Plus I was positive it wouldn't work. Call it mother's intuition or my general pessimism around this pregnancy, but for whatever reason,  I was fairly confident baby was not going to move.

I had some qualms about scheduling a c-section. What if my dates were off and it made baby too early? What if it interfered with the hormones for bonding and breastfeeding? Babies are supposed to come when they're ready. As uncomfortable and sick of being pregnant as I was, I felt bad about forcing baby out - especially before its due date.

But waiting to go into labor had its own risks. Dr. G and Dr. R stressed I shouldn't let myself get too dilated or have too many contractions. They didn't want baby any lower in my pelvis. I was already dilated to 2 at my appointment and thinning out. But they both reminded me it could still be weeks until baby was ready.

We finally made it home Tuesday night with all this new information and big life-changing decisions to make. So naturally Bobby went to Fast and Furious 7 with some friends and I took a bubble bath and went to bed. Except the cervical check from hell was plaguing me with bad bleeding, tons of mucous discharge, and what felt like menstrual cramps.

In fact, I was up most of the night trying to clean up blood and mucous and wondering if this was what losing my mucous plug meant, or if Dr G had just really irritated things. The cramps weren't too painful, and I did wonder briefly if they were contractions, but it was pretty constant - not timeable - so I tried to ignore them and sleep. Plus, when I pooped the next morning, they seemed to subside. Glad I didn't spend all night trying to time my poop!

Bobby left for work Wednesday morning and I tried to sleep for a few hours. Eventually I got up, but I was feeling super lazy. I had to make some phone calls about our breast pump insurance coverage, my summer volleyball team sponsorship, and eventually I texted Dr G and asked him to call me so we could discuss my options. He texted back that he'd call soon, but he didn't get back to me til afternoon.

We went over the options again - ECV, scheduled c-section, or c-section after going into labor. Then I briefly brought up the mucous, bleeding, and cramping. He didn't like the cramping, so he suggested I call and go to labor and delivery just to get checked out. It was likely nothing, but he didn't want my cervix to change too much, since I was dilated some already. I told him I had a few things to do, but I'd go get checked out around 4 when Bobby got home.

I called L&D and they had already heard from Dr G and were expecting me. I told them I wasn't really having contractions, and I felt fine but I'd be there in a few hours. They seemed reluctant to let me wait that long, but I really wanted to wait for Bobby.

So I called him around 2, urged him to not panic but let him know we were going in for monitoring that night. I told him to finish up work - and maybe wrap things up for the week, just in case - but I also needed him to go pick up a check from my volleyball sponsor on his way home. No hurry.

I laid down, telling myself to relax and get some sleep if this was the real thing but I didn't think it was. This was way too easy to be labor. I figured we'd be sent home from monitoring, but I threw together a few overnight bags anyway.

Eventually Bobby came home around 4 pm. He kind of putzed around, but I think he was taking his cues from me. I assured him we'd be sent home that night.

Well...we got to the hospital and as I stepped down out of the truck, there was a huge gush. My water broke. Hollywood style. In the parking lot. Now my pants were soaked. And I sort of started to panic. This was really happening - and it was super uncomfortable walking with really wet pants.

Thankfully Bobby took over and got me to just keep walking. We went into the main entrance and basically everyone ignored us. I shuffled to the bathroom to try to contain the leaking, but it was useless. We finally made it up to labor and delivery where they buzzed us in.

Dr. R was on call, so he was sitting at the desk. They were talking about me. He told us he wasn't supposed to see us so soon. 

 "I think my water broke," I blurted out.

A nurse standing behind me smiled and said, "I think you're right."

They took us into a triage room and I changed into a gown. They began the check in process. I was dilated to 4 cm. This was definitely it. It was about 4:30 and Dr R came in to chat with us. He looked at the clock. "You guys should have a baby by 6:15."

The next hour went so fast and excruciatingly slow. I was having pretty strong contractions, which wouldn't have seemed so bad if I was actually laboring and working up to pushing. But knowing that they were all for nothing kind of sucked.

I met with the anesthesiologist team and a bunch of nurses. Dr. G came too, and I was so thankful. I didn't actually know if he'd be there, since Dr R was doing the c-section, but he was since he's the baby's doctor. He attended the whole thing, and sat with Bobby (who was extremely grateful for the calming presence) and then did all the baby after care.

Finally I was walked down to the OR. They helped me on the table, gave me heated blankets and the anesthesiologist did his thing on my spine. It wasn't too bad, mostly because I was ready to be done with contractions at that point. I laid down, they gave me oxygen and put up a sheet.

Dr G and Bobby came in and sat by my head. The delivery team made small talk, and Dr G told me it was because everything had to be timed, plus they wanted me to feel calm. I was pretty out of it - between the rush in, the drugs, and the oxygen. They all made guesses about the gender. Only Bobby and one other nurse said boy.

The c-section itself felt weird. I could feel my belly being manipulated and my organs moved around, but no sharp pain. Though it was pretty uncomfortable. And it took longer than I expected. I just wanted baby out!

Finally, I heard Dr. R say he could see baby's head. More tugging, and then he announced, "Dad and nurse Tara were right. We have a boy."

They held him briefly by my face, and then Dr. G took him to a little station to assess him. He was really purple, but crying. They assured me it was a good cry. They worked on him at the station, and it was close to my head so I could see everything and Bobby was right there too. I thought they'd take him away and I'd be alone, since everything happened so fast, we didn't have anyone else at the hospital. Thankfully they were just a few feet away while the team finished sewing me up. It took awhile to finish my surgery part, but they wrapped baby up and Bobby held him while sitting on the stool by my head. Jack was so chill and good. And of course Bobby is a baby whisperer, so he did great. I could see them both and I was so happy.

The big shock was when they weighed Jack. Dr G had been telling me he was pretty sure baby would be around 6 pounds at birth, due to my height/weight and my belly consistently measuring small. So it was surprising to everyone in the room when he weighed in 8 pounds, 5 ounces. 2 weeks early! Dr. G later told me that I likely would have ended up with a c-section even if he wasn't breech, since he didn't think a baby that big would have fit through my pelvis. And that would have been after many hours of hard labor. So I am thankful things worked out the way they did.

We had three nights in the hospital - it was a whirlwind trying to call our parents and families that night after the mandatory recovery time. It was about 10 pm then, and no one knew we were even at the hospital. It just happened too fast.

We're home now and mostly doing well. Jack is such a calm kid, even when we've had big groups visit and pass him around. He does have his days and nights mixed up, so he's really chill all day and then won't go to sleep at night unless he's being held.

Breastfeeding has been an adventure. It's tough - my nipple are raw and I had to use a nipple shield and start pumping in the hospital. We had to supplement with a bit of formula too, since I don't think I was producing anything for a few days and Jack dropped close to a pound pretty quickly. Hopefully my milk will come in soon.

Healing from the c-section has been hard. The incision looks great (according to all doctors/nurses/Bobby/my mom - I can't actually see it, and I'm a little scared to look), and Dr. R even said I'd be a good candidate for a VBAC in the future if I wanted. It's painful to get around, and my back is sore from compensating for not using my abs, but I'm getting there.

Oh and sleep is a million times more comfortable now than being 9 months pregnant - so those of you who are still getting there, it does get better!

And it's totally worth it.

The One Where I Had A Baby

Yep.

That happened.

Blog world, meet Jack.

Fat Feet

37 week appointment went well. Dr. G. again told me that today is not my day, and I'm not allowed to deliver over the weekend because it's Easter and he has family plans. Fair enough.

The cervical check hurt INFINITELY less this time. He said my cervix is tilted more favorably (?) and softer, but no dilation yet. I have been taking Evening Primrose Oil this week - not sure if it actually did anything, but it may have helped some with the softening since last week.

I mentioned to Dr. G. that I've noticed some pretty bad swelling in my feet, hands, and face over the last week or so. He looked at my chart, and then noted that I'm up six pounds from last week. He said that it was all fluid, since my belly is still measuring small and my bump hasn't grown significantly. He's not worried since my blood pressure is still low (although it was 120/90, which is the highest it's ever been in my life, except I think it may have been the nurse's first day who did my vitals. She struggled with the blood pressure cuff and then pretty much squeezed the life out my arm while taking it. My bp may have been high because I was nervous about the real possibility of her amputating my arm). I don't know if there's anything I can do about the swelling, but I doubt it's going to get better. Dr. G noticed it even more when he put my feet in the stirrups, but he just, "Oh, your poor feet. Try to drink water and put them up when you can."

I'm grateful I live in a cool climate, and that it's a really good temperature right now. I remember one of my friends who had a baby a few years ago in July when it was close to 90* every day and how swollen and miserable she was at the end. So at least it's not that bad.

This is my last week of work, and I couldn't be happier. I'm only sleeping a few hours a night because I'm so uncomfortable, and that's definitely making it harder to focus. I'm also really uncomfortable sitting in a chair all day at my computer. I try to get up and walk around, but when I do, I look like a hobbled old lady from sitting too long. Plus, no one has given me any projects since I'm leaving soon, so I've done pretty much nothing the last few weeks. It's nice to not be stressed, but it's also pretty boring. I'm tired of cleaning out my desk and organizing files. I'm ready to be home - finish up some projects for the nursery, finish shopping for things like nipple cream and breast pads that I was not about to put on my registry, and finish up our bathroom remodel. I also have big plans to make some freezer meals (or at least grocery shop) and go on lots of walks. We'll see if I actually accomplish any of this, or if I just binge watch HGTV and Netflix all day.

B is for Butthole

I had my 36 week appointment this morning, and according to Dr. G. I'm not having a baby today. And probably not this week either. He didn't give me any numbers after the cervical check, but he couldn't feel the head and had to reach waaaaay up there. That was...unpleasant.

It's okay, I could probably use a few more weeks to get ready, and baby can use a few more weeks to get stronger and fatter - although it's seriously tight quarters in there already. I'm not sure there's any more room to be had if this baby grows.

I also had the Group B Strep test today. Let's talk about that for a little bit, shall we? Why did not a single one of you bloggers with babies or those farther along in your pregnancies not think to mention that the Group B Strep Test is a swab of your butthole!?! You didn't think I would like to have that information beforehand?

I'll admit, it was probably a lack of research on my own part, but still. Help a sister out! Everything I've read - even the pregnancy books (including the ones my clinic gave me to read) failed to mention this. Dr. G. told me several weeks ago that I would be tested at 36 weeks. All the books, all of you guys, and even Dr. G. just called it a "swab." And then informed me that if I tested positive, I would need to make sure I get to the hospital early enough in labor for two rounds of antibiotics. Sure. Good. Done. Sounds easy enough.

Hello...when you tell me Strep Test, I'm gonna assume a NORMAL Strep Test. I've had strep. We've all had strep. You know, lots of coughing, sore throat, lose your voice. No fun. And you know how they test for it? With a THROAT culture. You stick out your tongue and say "Ahhhh." They look for spots on your throat. The only "swab" they take is from your MOUTH. The worst part is if they whack your hangy ball with the tongue depressor.

Do you know what they DON'T do to test for strep throat? Stick a q-tip up your ass. I would think that *someone* at some point in this pregnancy could have told me that the "B" in Group B Strep stands for butthole.

I'm feeling a little betrayed by all of you right now. But let's move on.

We're marginally ready for this baby. I still have a week and half of work left, we're about 90% finished with our downstairs bathroom remodel, and I'm officially sleeping on the recliner part of our couch. There are a few miscellaneous baby items I need to pick up. I'm putting it off until I'm done working, mostly so I have something to do, and don't spend the entire two weeks on the couch watching a bunch of shows that I'm not really that interested in, but I'm DVRing anyway so I have something to watch when I can't sleep. I figure if I have errands to run and things to buy I won't become a totally lazy blob. Or at least not lazier or blobbier than I already am.

I'm getting to the point where I know I'll be able to sleep better after the baby comes. And that's sort of scary. My friends with toddlers laugh at me when I say this, but my friends with newborns understand. They still remember just how uncomfortable these last weeks are. One friend with a newborn shared recently that even though she's only sleeping for an hour or two at a time, it's the best sleep she's had in five months since she's finally able to get comfortable. I can't actually remember what comfortable feels like. No feet in my ribs? No head butting in my pelvis? My hips don't ache? My obliques can actually support the weight of my stomach without strain? I know I was really lucky that I slept really well until about 32 weeks, but I'm making up for it now.

And after three weeks of beautiful weather and complete snow melt (which meant slip-on flats and no socks!), it decided to snow eight inches yesterday and I had to drag out my boots again. I just can't catch a break! Although after a surprise butthole swab, I'm not sure anything should shock me.

The Great Debate

I'm going to broach a controversial topic that I am aware has started and fueled all kinds of Mommy Wars. Let's talk Stay At Home Moms vs. Working Moms. I don't really want to be controversial or start a war here, what I want to know is how you made the decision (or are working on making the decision) about what the best option is for you and your family.

Well, to be entire truthful, what I really want to know is what the best option is for me and my family.

I know that many families don't actually have much of a choice. It's purely a financial decision about whether they can afford child care or if they can afford to feed their family on a single income. I do recognize how lucky I am that, for at least right now, I do have a choice. But that doesn't mean it's easy.

We are in a good place financially. That can happen when you have a Double Income No Kids lifestyle for nearly five years. When Bobby and I first got married, we were poor. I was just out of college, unemployed, and Bobby was making $9.00 an hour. We lived in a tiny basement apartment and ate A LOT of Mac n Cheese. Luckily I had a few thousand dollars in savings, or we would have been in big trouble. But eventually I got a job, Bobby kept getting promotions and raises, and with a year or so, we were doing much better. Plus, we both had supplemental income from coaching. (Ha!) Okay, that's kind of a joke. Coaching takes up waaaaay more time than the stipend makes up for. I think I make like $.0003 an hour coaching. But back then, what I had was time, and no money, so it seemed like a reasonable tradeoff.

After we bought our house, we set a certain goal amount for how much savings we thought we should have before expanding our family. After a year or so, we hit our goal and started trying for a baby. Since it took us an extra two years after that to even get pregnant (and no fertility treatments) - and we were still socking away savings - we're at a pretty comfortable place right now. Call it an unexpected blessing of infertility.

I've been at my current job for a little over four years, and I have become increasingly unhappy with it for the last year or so. If I hadn't gotten pregnant last summer, I would have been job searching for something new anyway and quit as soon as I found something. I needed to get out. I needed a change. Obviously pregnancy isn't the ideal time to job search, but it does make an excellent way to leave a job you're unhappy with, without burning any bridges. Everyone is extremely happy for me to be able to stay home with my baby - I have a feeling there would be much harder feelings had I just left for something better.

My last day is April 3, the end of my 37th week of pregnancy. It's pretty awesome to know that I can take my time and not worry too much about official "maternity leave." I know that if I were staying at my job, I would be pressured into working up until my due date to maximize my time off, plus checking in, working from home, and getting things done much sooner than I would be ready. It'll be nice to not have to care if things are falling apart without me. I'll officially be a stay at home mom.

But I'm not sure I want to be.

I'm about to say some things, and I know how they're going to sound. It's going to sound like I think I'm too good/smart/etc. to be a stay at home mom. And that's not the way I want it to sound. These are all confusing feelings, and the only reason I'm writing them is to attempt to sort them out.

Here's the thing: I went to school for four years. I paid a huge sum for my education. I did all that because I want to be working in my field, and I want to be making a difference and contributing to society. Is it all just a huge waste if I stay home and never use my education again? How do I justify that? I really don't know if I could be "fulfilled" in the same way by being a stay at home mom as I am when I'm writing and designing and creating. I'm sure many moms are. I know some consider it the most meaningful job they'll ever do. I don't think I'm that kind of person though. I think I would feel like I'm being lazy. And cheating myself out of my dreams.

On the other side, should I even be having a baby if I'm so selfish? What's the point of having a kid if you're going to give it to someone else for the majority of their lives to raise? Plus, child care in our town is expensive and really hard to get into - especially for newborns. It makes very little sense for us to put a newborn in day care that would eat up nearly my entire paycheck. I'm lucky that my parents are local and my dad is retired, so we do have the option of some short-term care, but I know he wouldn't be interested in doing 40 hours a week of day care, and I would never ask/expect him to.

I'm also lucky that my field (writing/graphic design) has the possibility for freelance work. I could work from home on some projects, but starting a business, building clients, etc. is really time consuming if I plan to make any decent money from it. I would also have the added expense of upgrading my home computer and software to be able to do it.

I've been asked about tutoring, which would be great, but then I would need a babysitter or to work in the evenings once Bobby's home - and that would cut into my ability to coach, at least in the fall. But it's a possibility.

I've also been asked about subbing, which I don't have my teaching license, but our school district is considered "high need" and can use subs without teaching licenses, as long as they have degrees in the subject. It's a possibility, but I've never actually taught a class, only tutored one-on-one and in smaller groups. It's a bit scary. Plus I would need a babysitter on days that I subbed.

So all of these things are jumbled up in my head, and I'm wondering what the heck I'm supposed to do with my life. I feel like I'm 18 again. Or 22.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GROW UP!

I'm sort of thinking about not doing anything until my volleyball season is over next October - but if I want to get into something in the schools, that might be too late. Should I be thinking about giving up coaching for awhile? I have discussed this with Bobby, but he's not much help. He tells me he wants me to do whatever makes me happy. Ugh. The nerve of the guy, right? So difficult.

Are any of you career counselors? Tell me what I should do, please! Or at least share your stories about how you made/are making your decision about what to do.

It's Getting Real

Right now, I'm currently alternating between two panicked worries. 1) That I won't know when I'm in labor and 2) That I'll think false labor is real labor and won't be able to handle the pain of either one.

Let's talk about the first one. Every time I have this worry, I think it's ridiculous. This is supposedly the most painful event in a person's life. And I'm worried I'm just going to sleep through it? No - I don't think I'm going to be one of those women who's baby just gushes out while she's on the toilet or in the shower. I'm not that lucky. I fully expect to spend a good 9,000 hours in labor - at least 12 of them solid pushing. My body has done nothing to convince me that it's going to be kind to me and give me one of those births that leaves me saying, Would you look at that! A baby just fell out of my vagina. How effortless and convenient.

No, what I'm worried about is that I'm really good at ignoring pain. There have been a few nights where I've had really terrible cramping (don't worry, it turned out to just be poop) and I've thought...I wonder if I should be more concerned? I haven't had any trips to labor and delivery for pain or suspicious activity. I haven't even called the nurse line. Every single mom friend I've talked to said they did these things multiple times. Most of them went in at one point for Braxton Hicks contractions or for not feeling enough movement or for pain that turned out to be RLP, or for cramping that was just constipation. Whenever I wonder if something is wrong, I just ignore it instead. Maybe do some light Googling.

Maybe it's because I had pretty terrible menstrual cramps growing up. I tend to be able to ignore stomach pain pretty well. I once had a UTI that I let go long enough that it turned into a kidney infection. I let that go for a good 24 hours until I was in so much pain I was throwing up and barely lucid. When I finally got checked by a doctor, they couldn't believe I had driven myself and was still walking. After passing a few kidney stones, part of me thinks that pushing out a baby is going to be easy. According to a pain-rating chart I saw recently, most women do put kidney infections/stones higher on the pain scale than even natural child birth.

I'm not worried I'm going to "miss" labor and end up delivering at home, but I am worried I'm not going to know if something is wrong soon enough to do something about it. I'm worried that I should be better at knowing my body and not ignoring when things are painful. I'm worried that I'm going to be too stubborn about not wanting to get to the hospital too early that I get there too late and it negatively affects my baby.

Which leads me to the second point. My goal is to not go to the hospital until I'm around 5-7 cm dilated. I want to labor at home before that, so that I'm comfortable, able to eat, and manage pain in my own way. When I'm in pain, I like to be left alone and deal with it (ignore it)- see kidney infection story above. I'm afraid that in a hospital, I'm not going to get that option.

I'm afraid that labor's going to start, I'm going to wait it out a few hours and finally think I'm in so much pain I must be close to transition. So I'll pack up and go to the hospital--and find out I haven't even started dilating. Or I'm 1-2cm. That my pain tolerance isn't even close to what I thought it was. They'll send me home and I'll spend the next 8,500 hours in absolute agony before my body even starts laboring for real.

So - how do you balance these two things? How do you "manage" early labor on your own and know the exact right time to go to the hospital? How will I know if something's wrong if everything is so painful anyway? I get waiting for contractions 3-5 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute, for 1 hour - but how do I know my body isn't just going to stall at some point during those, or after, or once I get to the hospital? Do most people just not worry about this sort of thing and trust their "mother's intuition?" Because I sure don't.