Acupuncture Roller Coaster

This morning, I had a check-up/check-in at the birthing center. Again, we listened to the baby's heart rate, and as the baby moves, the heart speeds up, just like it's supposed to. They don't even care about me anymore, as we didn't take my blood pressure or pulse, and I didn't weigh or do the urinalysis. I guess it's obvious that I'm fine, although Stephanie did tell me my "energy" is different than it was two weeks ago. Jayme had told me the same kind of thing last week, only she had said, the day after we returned from Schlitterbahn, "Yeah, I don't think you look like a mom who's going to call us in labor tomorrow. Your face doesn't look like it." And Friday, she told me that my face looked ready. I didn't ask for too many details. I don't want to be self-conscious.

Tonight, after bringing Daphne home from her 4-H classes, I had a second appointment with the acupuncturist. She didn't make me do stairs first this time (oh, but I had to do them!). First, we did the needles in kind of the same position as before, except more this time, and lower on the back.

When she put the ones in my left forearm and hand, they hurt quite a bit, especially the one in the hand. I mentioned to her that this weekend, I stopped feeling the little tags they gave me except for the one on my left hand. I told her it had really bothered me when I pressed on it, so I spent a lot of time over the weekend concentrating on that, figuring that if it hurt, it needed attention.

She said, "That's interesting. We associate the left side with emotions, and it reminds us of movement. Both physically and that things are always changing. But since you're overdue, and you have a daughter who's trying to process the baby changes, and your mother-in-law is about to visit... it would make sense that that side would be disturbed."

When she left, I started thinking about it... about how our dinner tonight is likely to be the last dinner that's just the three of us. Things are going to change forever, and although I know that's good, it's a HUGE change, and it's okay to kind of mourn that. Even if I don't go into labor tomorrow (and I'm going to spend most of the day at the birthing center doing "natural" stuff to try to get it going), James' mom will be here (we're totally looking forward to that, by the way; she's never seen where he lives in his adult life!), and at some point during the week she's here, we will have the baby, and then more family and guest and noise and... change. And the fact is, the status quo is pretty awesome.

Pondering this made me cry, and I wondered if my resistance to usher in a change of this magnitude (as opposed to, "Well, it's happening whether we're ready or not!" which is what I wish would happen) is keeping hormones bound up that would otherwise release and start the process. So I tried to surrender any latent/subconscious control or barriers... And, yes, I KNOW how this sounds, but it's very difficult not to get all esoteric when you've spent as much time around alternative providers as I have lately.

After ten minutes, I was mercifully interrupted by the assistant who, I had been told, was going to shock me. Literally.

She put the electrodes at the base of my spine and then this little iPod-looking thing cycled through a series of "stimulations" that started with what felt like a quick knocking and ended up feeling like I had a strongly-vibrating phone stuck in my waistband. Right when it would get to the, "Ick, this is a little too intense" level, the cycle would cut out and restart.

After several repetitions of the cycle, the baby started moving more, and I asked if Rooby liked it or thought it was ridiculous. I think I thought it was ridiculous, because I started laughing about how silly the picture was of my sitting there, back exposed, needles sticking out of my arms, legs, and torso, electrodes iPodding my spine with low-level electricity... Just goofy.

Ten minutes later, I got dressed leaving the Palm Massager in place, and did the stairs again. This was enough movement that it distracted me from the current, which was starting to get irritating, just sitting there.

When I left, I got 4 more mini-acupuncture tabs and we didn't schedule anything else since I'm going to spend Tuesday at the birthing center, doing all sorts of things that can hopefully "naturally" induce labor. I've done all of the stuff I can do at home, so they're going to help me and monitor me all day. I did draw the line at consuming castor oil because 1) I have a hair-trigger digestive system (hello, spinach gives me regrets) and do not wish to be in pain that is not specifically baby-related and 2) everything I've read says it really doesn't seem to work, anyway.

However, I was thinking about it last night, and even though stuff like breast-pumping and consuming certain herbs might qualify as "old wives' tales," that's sort of the whole point of having a midwife. They perform the "services" of helping, assisting, and supporting expectant mothers the way that older, more experienced family and neighborhood women used to do when our society was set up like that. They were literally old wives, and their input and presence was invaluable.

So, while I'm not hugely excited about spending today up the hill hooked up to a milking machine, I'm pretty much willing to do anything (except drinking a "stimulant laxative") short of drug/surgical intervention to see if it will work as a jump-start. 

Here's where I'll be hanging out today, if you need me:

Could be a lot worse. :)

I'm taking my computer (I'm more than half way through "Ugly Betty") and library book, but I could use some lunch! *hint hint* 

Saturday, Saturday, Saturday... (I'm singing it in my head)

We had a pretty great day Saturday.

I had to take Daphne to her dad's in the morning, then came home to drop off some paperwork for a friend before I got back out to buy groceries. It rained, which unfortunately didn't cool anything off (again) but was nice while it lasted. Actually, it rained at the grocery store but not at the house.

I didn't really like the eMeals menu for the week, plus I'm feeling lazy and like I won't necessarily be in the mood to chop and plan and do full-out breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day from scratch scratch, so I bought a lot of stuff that lends itself to easy prep (more sandwich fixings than usual, steamable veggies already seasoned, etc.) and also some stuff like mini-bagel pizzas, which were on sale. It's been good that I've had a list in the past, because shopping like I did yesterday is like shopping with permanent PMS.

After groceries, James and I undertook one of the more interactive anecdotal methods to hasten labor. I'm not going to go into much detail about THIS, because it's wrong, but very immediately after, we had some "action." James was out in the hall and got to hear, from the other side of the closed restroom door, my reaction to the progress. It went a little something like this.




SO much wrongness. I was not aware of the passing of this particular bit of biological matter when I was expecting Daphne, and seriously could have lived happily the rest of my life without ever having seen it. But at least it's a step toward delivering, right?

James and I then walked to Arturo's for what was called brunch, but was actually lupper, as we finished up around 3. I'd gotten up pretty early and had eaten both breakfast and lunch on a schedule about 3-4 hours earlier than James, so I just had a cup of fruit but enjoyed hanging out with my man a great deal.

Daphne came home around 6 and we had a nice, quiet night together. I'd not napped so was in bed by 8. I'm taking advantage of all of the sleep I can get right now! I know it's for a limited time only.

Jump Starting?

Because of my recent ultrasound and some other factoring, the midwives moved my "estimated date of delivery" from September 4 to September 8, putting me at post-dates this coming Monday instead of yesterday.

The baby is great, and I'm fine, but that kid just does not seem motivated to move. Today, I went in to the midwife's to make sure the fetal heart rate was good, and to see exactly where the baby is. Also, to see if we could get any "action" over the weekend, we did some stuff. Here 'tis:

Friday, September 19, 9:15 AM

Midwife appointment.

Stephanie had mixed up some herbs for me to take over the weekend. It's labeled "Labor Prep" and has several herbs in it. I'm supposed to take 40 drops every 4 hours, except when I'm sleeping.

Natalie had me do my usual in-office testing. She listened to the fetal heartbeat with the Doppler (they usually just use the stethoscope) for longer than typical, checking to see if the baby's heart rate rose when it moved (it did). She felt for position, then she did the first internal examination I've had so far.

She found good things and made a couple of recommendations. The baby's hand may be jammed up against my bones with its head. She has me trying several positions and exercises to move it up (which seems counter-intuitive) so it can free up its hand.

Natalie tried to do a membrane sweep, but didn't get too far because the baby's still up high enough.

When I got home, I took the first dose of the herbs... and while it tasted pretty bad, there was no creepy metallic aftertaste like I've had with the tinctures I've attempted to take so far. Actually, it kind of burned a little bit, in a pleasant way.

I'm a little sore from the exam, but I'm getting ready to go to an acupuncture session, so maybe that'll take the edge off.

11:30 AM

Acupuncture treatment.

Downstairs from the birthing center is Light Family Acupuncture. Part of my birthing packet included (or was supposed to have included) a gift certificate for a free treatment. I didn't see it, but I still got to use it today. :)

When I first went in, the acupuncturist explained what we were going to do, then she took me into the hallway and told me to walk up the flight of stairs, skipping every other stair. Then to do that five times, coming back downstairs "normally."

Well.

I did. And after the stairs, I was supposed to use the restroom, then go get into position for the treatment. When I had ascended and descended the stairs five times, the restroom was occupied, so I went up one more time. Supposedly, the skip-step walking was to encourage the baby to descend some more.

After I'd made use of the facilities, I went into the treatment room... I was wearing a dress with bike shorts under it (my favorite thing for days I have exams where people are going to want to look at my belly), and the acupuncturist had told me that she needed access to my shoulders and lower back. For this reason, she was having me sit on a very comfortable rolling stool, relaxing my head and arms on a few pillows stacked on the acupuncture bed. It's like sleeping in class with your head on the desk, if the teacher provided multiple fluffy headrests. The acupuncturist offered multiple fans, lighting options, more pillows, fewer pillows, and even the heater so I'd be comfortable. (No thanks on that last one!)

What's funny is that she had told me that I could probably just take off my dress and leave my underwear on, but I was welcome to remove everything if I wanted to. Eww. Why? It's one of those things that helps me realize that there are people WAY more in tune with nature and their bodies than I am. I was content to sit on a stool wearing my bike shorts, since other people actually have used and will continue to use the chair.

When the treatment was over, the assistant gave me the skin tag things you see on the left. They're basically like thumb tacks, but tiny acupuncture needles topped by bandage material. She stuck one in each hand and one on the inside of both of my lower legs, telling me that I could push on them throughout the weekend to "stimulate your meridians." Alternately I don't notice them, or they're itchy.

They gave me a list of things like exercises and foods they recommend, as well as essential oils (which I don't have), aromatherapy, and "slippery foods." Oats is the only thing on that list that I actually like.

7:15 PM

Curry for dinner.

Curry was on the list, so James and I walked (another thing I'm supposed to do to help the membrane sweep "work;" I'd walked to TCBY with my sister and her family earlier, too) to Teji's for dinner. The acupuncturist said, "You can do Thai curry or Indian curry; we like that better than Mexican food." What a coincidence! I like Thai or Indian better than Mexican, too.. and if you think that's an easy position to hold, then you don't live in Texas.

I chose the goat curry, because chicken isn't my favorite, and because we had goat several times in Haiti and I remember it fondly. It was just spicy enough that when I was finished, my mouth was ready to be done with it. The naan there is crazy good: huge, light, moist but not too chewy, fresh from the tandoor. And the kheer did a great job of cooling down my face when I was done with the meal.

Conclusion:

The membrane sweep made me feel mildly icky for a couple of hours. The acupuncture was relaxing enough. Dinner was delicious, and I love hanging out with my husband. Also, I got rained on three times today, and it felt great because even though it's been rainy, it's still awfully humid and disgusting when the rain isn't actually coming down.

I've also kept up with the evening primrose since last week, and have taken those herbs thrice today.

However, none of these things has sent me into labor... Yet.

Which means one thing: I have to buy groceries tomorrow. Pppth.

Comparisons

Without planning it, I managed to skip the entire decade of my 30s in the area of pregnancy and childbearing. I had Daphne just after I'd turned 29, and here I am comfortably planted into my early 40s (turned 42 two weeks ago) on the cusp of, as James started to say the other day, "about to pop my baby out..."

There have been some similarities and some differences between these two pregnancies. I don't know that I'd call either one "more" difficult. Just different. So I'm going to compare notes with the pregnancy diary I kept when I was expecting Daphne and my experiences this time and compare and contrast them below, in no particular order:

Differences

A. Weight loss and nausea. With Daphne, I lost a whole lot of weight at the beginning of the pregnancy. I was on the verge of illness the entire first trimester. This time, I was "mehh" about some things, and couldn't stomach imagining what I "wanted" to make for dinner, but once I'd prepared food and put it on a plate in front of me, I could eat it.

B. Thought in preparation. I was flummoxed by three questions asked of me at my very first examination when I was expecting Daphne: 1) Do you want a natural childbirth? 2) Do you plan to breastfeed? 3) If it is a boy, will you circumcise? Because of my experiences with the first, these questions had solid answers long before I knew I'd ever have another baby.

C. Stocking up. I'm a bargain shopper; it's just who I am. But with Daphne, our money was SO tight, I always bought the absolute cheapest thing I could find that would work and that I didn't hate. This time around, we've had enough money that I've been able to pick out things I actually want, and then find the best deal on that specific thing. I have avoided buying some things I really did want (like the Hushamok ) because I never felt like they were discounted enough, but our nursery runneth over at this point, and I'm really happy with everything. (P.S. Our nursery is like 95 square feet, so there's not actually too much in there.)

D. Nails. I managed to grow my nails out with Daphne. Not this time.

E. Jobs. I was a property manager then IT something-or-other with a firm in Las Vegas in 2001. I had a mostly-typical 8-5 office job, though I did have to get out and do some inspections. This time, I was working from home as an insurance agent/customer service representative until the end of June, and being able to nap on demand made a HUGE difference in my quality of life.

F. Prenatal care. I could write a whole blog post on this one. In 2001, I was on a fairly typical OB/GYN track. I'd make appointments, sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes (noting that I'd had time to read several magazine articles, write thank you notes, etc.), see the doctor for a good 5-6 minutes, and be done. Or else the doctor would cancel and reschedule my appointments because he'd been out delivering babies. This happened at least a four times in the 5 months I was his patient. This time, I'm under the care of midwives, and have had to wait 5-15 minutes exactly three times: once when the midwife was stuck in traffic (it's Austin), once when another midwife unlocked the doorknob but not the deadbolt, and then last week when someone showed up for a "surprise" first prenatal visit. That time, I got to hang out with the intern/doula, and I loved it because after my vitals and updating the file, we talked about stuff that had nothing to do with my pregnancy, which was nice. I have one hour scheduled for each appointment, and they've all lasted about half an hour to 45 minutes, all face-time with my provider. Additionally, while the doctor told me what to do, the midwives tell me what's available and let me make decisions. I declined genetic testing based on the fact that it would not affect our outcome (read: I wouldn't abort the baby regardless), and a medical doctor would not have "allowed" me to refuse this test, as it help them assign a more specific risk level to my pregnancy (which is already considered "high" in the medical community because of my age). Also, I have not had a vaginal examination yet. I'm at what is on paper 41 weeks, 3 days, and no one is worried about it. I have an ultrasound scheduled for Tuesday, just to make sure baby and placenta are doing okay. If they are, we might even move my due date. There is no rush. This is not an illness. It's nice to be treated as though I'm a normal pregnant lady instead of a high-stakes sick person.

G. Stretch marks. Got the during the last few weeks with Daphne. So far this time, none! But who knows. I could still be two weeks out.

H. Swelling. By the end of my pregnancy with Daphne, my feet would spill out of my shoes at the end of the day. This actually started happening super early this pregnancy, like less than half way in. However, I started going to the chiropractor (for another reason: to turn the baby if that were necessary) and after a few adjustments, the edema was gone! Now that I'm toward the end, I've put on some water weight; I can feel it in my ankles and lower legs, especially when I squat down. But it's NOTHING like it was 13 years ago.

I. Personal maintenance. I'd commented in 2001 that I was disappointed because people kept telling me that at some point, due to hormone stuff from being pregnant, my hair growth would slow down and I wouldn't have to shave anymore. That never happened. It happened this time, though! TMI? Okay. Moving on...

Similarities

A. Nausea. Regardless of how I've felt, I've never thrown up when expecting.

B. Aversion to reading instructional materials. There is a huge industry built around teaching women who are pregnant what to expect, how to prepare, and how to do things. With Daphne, I figured I'd just intuit a lot of it... and I did. But now I also see that everyone's experience is different, and there are some "choices" you can't make until you're in the thick of the moment, and that probably your friends and the health care professionals who already know you are a much better resource than just one author with just one viewpoint.

C. Registries. Didn't want to. Did just to have a list to remind me of what I needed.Registries make me feel presumptuous and grabby. (Other people's registries don't bother me at all!)

D. Hair. Pregnancy is awesome for my hair. It grows faster, it's thick and lush, and this time, I haven't needed to wash it as often as usual.

E. Family pregnancies. My sister Sarah was expecting Mackenzie when I was pregnant with Daphne. D was born a month and some change before Mackenzie. My sister-in-law Mei Li was expecting Emily during my pregnancy, and Emily made her appearance at the end of July.

F. Meralgia Paresthetica. It was much earlier-onset this time, but the same patch of left outer thigh experiences numbness if I stand too long. I have to stretch out to get the baby sac off of whatever nerve it is or the weird numbness turns to extreme pain. Fortunately, since I got to the bottom of the issue with Daphne, I've known how to fix it this time around.

G. Sports drinks. I don't typically drink Gatorade and the like. But during both pregnancies, I have developed a taste for electrolyte-replacement beverages. It was Gatorade's light blue ice flavor that was my favorite with Daphne. This time, it has been Powerade Zero, any flavor, but not so much during the third trimester. Still, just a weird consistency thing that is not of interest to me when I'm not housing a baby.

H. Exercise. With Daphne, I worked out and walked pretty much until I was due. It felt awesome. This time, it's been some walking but mostly biking. Love it!

I. Chiropractic. Regarding the "F" up there... Chiropractic helped me fix that problem, and this time, it's eliminated my swelling. Love me some chiropractic.

J. Allergies/asthma. Being pregnant seems to take care of my asthma, at least temporarily.

K. Due date. I have always had irregular cycles. When I first went in to see a doctor with Daphne, they put her due date at October 21. Later, when she was measuring smaller, they changed it to November 5. This time, based on the statistical "norms," the 40 week mark fell on September 4... but if you talked to me at all about it, I'm sure you heard that this was not what I thought; I felt it would be later. And I was right. The reason I think this is even more TMI than the shaving thing up there, but you'll just have to trust me. I think I'm just now at the 40 week mark, and "normal" is as much as 42 actual weeks.

There are other things... personal, situation things that make a big difference, but I'm not going into those. Basically, there have been some differences and some similarities, but the biggest thing is that I generally enjoy being pregnant as a whole and am more healthy when I'm carrying a baby. I'm also sensitive and kind of bitchy. But it's 9 months when I'm not self-conscious about my appearance, and everything seems kind of like an adventure.

Thirteen years ago and today. I think I'm aging pretty darn well, and rocking this pregnancy thing, too! :)

40+6 (but not really)

If you put any stock in this kind of thing, my "estimated date of delivery" (EDD) was nearly a week ago. Since I don't, since I realize that 40 weeks from the last menstrual period (LMP) is only an average and that most women fall anywhere between 37 and 42 weeks and this is all considered very normal, I'm not that fussed about it.

Today, I had an appointment with my midwife, and after holding steady at the same weight for nearly a month, I gained three pounds this past week. I can feel it in my ankles and lower legs: it's fluid. I can maybe see it in my face a bit, too.

Can't help it; still cute.

My blood pressure is still good, the fetal heart rate is super strong, and speeds up when the baby moves. Because "we don't operate in a vacuum," I'm going to have an ultrasound next Tuesday just to make sure we're all doing okay in there. I'm hoping that we'll be able to push the due date back to something more reasonable at that point, to buy me more time. The midwives aren't concerned, but I think they have to do due diligence in order not to look like they're eschewing any kind of medically-acknowledged prudence.

I'm feeling great, health-wise, and am going to attempt to ride my bike this evening for the first time in a couple of weeks. Just two miles, but I've been getting so much sleep and feeling the pull of gravity very heavily when I try to walk or bike so have slacked off a bit this past few days.

Plus, I have been feeling somewhat petulant. This whole being out of sorts thing has shaped up both in my eating habits teetering on "junk food overload" (in order to claim ownership over my body and my desires, instead of catering solely to "the baby," as if to prove I'm not "just" an incubator) and in just being too mehh to get motivated.

In order to calm myself down, yesterday I took to reading articles with titles like "How can I maintain ownership of my body while I'm pregnant?" (there is some great, polite, level-headed advice in there) just to make me feel better about... well, feeling bad. I know that when people ask me about "the baby," and how I'm doing (translation: "Are you planning to move the baby to somewhere outside of your own body soon?"), and talk in concrete terms and with certainty about a child who does not yet seem as real to me as he/she apparently seems to other people that they mean well and are excited for and love us. Mentally. I know this. I get it. But it makes me feel like I'm being reached into without permission, like I don't get to say, "This is where you end and I begin, and right now I'm a pregnant mother of exactly one child, so when YOU talk about this baby in a way that implies I have two children, I feel like you're projecting onto me your hopes and dreams and it is A LOT OF PRESSURE."

This might not make sense to anyone else, but it is my reality. And especially when people refer to the baby possessively. I don't feel like it's "mine" yet. How can it already be yours? We could discuss for hours what this means about my being territorial, or overly-cautious about outcomes based on my age and history, or just being a bitch. But, ultimately, it's how I've been feeling, and that's the way it is.

Last night, when James came home, I knew I was VERY needy. I warned him about it during dinner, that I desperately needed some of his time. And after dinner, I asked him to do something I've never asked him to do before. I asked my sweet husband to sit down on the couch and let me lie my head in his lap, and I asked him to pet me and to talk to me and just let me look at him and feel his presence and be there.

Of course, he did just this. And I know now why it seems like Aish is always jonesing for this kind of attention. Within half an hour, I felt like myself again. I was so calm and happy and rested, and went to bed a little bit after eight o'clock feeling refilled and so much less rebellious.

Later in the night, I woke up to find James in bed. I hadn't awakened when he slipped in, but he was lying on "my" side of the bed, jack-knife straight on a tiny edge, because I was sprawled on my right side with my legs extended to the side, and my arms outstretched, enveloping his pillow.

That man makes sure I feel loved and taken care of; he's the greatest thing ever, and I'm so glad he's my partner in this and in everything.

Saturday, the high is supposed to be 74 degrees, and I plan to spend as much of the day as possible outside (there might be rain; fortunately, I don't melt) and definitely have the doors open and some cross-breeze going, even if it means inviting in the humidity. I always feel like I'm being reborn in the fall. After months of holing up indoors, separated from the sounds and smells of outside by climate control (for which I am infinitely grateful), it feels like reconnecting to the world again, but kind of for the first time. I'm ready!

King James

Tonight, I finished reading "A Year of Biblical Womanhood" by Rachel Held Evans, a book I highly recommend to anyone, but especially to Christian women (and thoughtful men) who have grown up in a church culture that heavily dictates gender roles, and to women (and thoughtful men) for whom the misogyny (real and presumed) of the Christian culture as supported (in theory) by the Bible have been a deal-breaker to approaching a relationship with Jesus.

Thank you for suffering through that awkwardly long run-on sentence with me.

In addition to falling in love with the author within the first two pages of the book, I finished the book pretty darned fond of her husband, as well. What we see of him in the book, both from her narrative and excerpts from his journal, speaks highly of him as a person and as a life partner.

Of course, this reminded me often of my own husband. In fact, this blog title is a sort of play on the fact that for one month of the "biblical womanhood" project, Evans called her husband "master."

Tonight, taking a shower, I was thinking a lot about James. Before you get a bunch of sordid ideas, allow me to explain:

Early this spring, we went on a vacation to Colorado. We stayed in 4 different hotels during the week of the road trip. After we'd gotten home, we were discussing how, until the last night, our accommodations improved, comfort-wise and in elegance, each time we moved. It was during that conversation that James mentioned being really impressed with and enjoying the detachable shower head at the third place where we stayed.

"You realize," I said, "That our shower here at the house has the same kind of sprayer?"

He said, "It does?"

"Yes."

"But that one had a massage setting."

"So does ours."

He had to go into the bathroom to check it out.

That's why I was thinking about him in the shower tonight. I think about him a lot, but especially when I use the shower sprayer function... AND before you get any sordid ideas about THAT, I'll tell you that unless I've gotten paint or mud or something sticky on myself, I only ever use the detachable head to clean the blinds and the far end of the shower (where we keep the hair product... and in our household, we have all of the needs) while I wait for my conditioner to work.

James and I sometimes joke about how "observant" he is. BUT, here's a thing:

A couple of weeks ago, James brought home a box of See's chocolates for me to put in my "labor bag." I have healthy, easily-edible snacks like applesauce pouches and chewy freeze-dried bananas and yogurt drops, but had mentioned at some point that chocolate was very easy to eat and digest. In fact, in "Real Chocolate" by Chantal Coady, the author points out that "[c]hocolate is even used as a homeopathic remedy, indicated for feelings of hostility, especially when mothers feel anger and frustration toward their offspring. The effect is to restore the nurturing mother side and to promote a general sense of well-being."

So, my dear husband might not have noticed, in the year and a half he's occupied the Nuthaus, that there is a multi-functioning shower head, but he did overhear me mention that at some point I needed to get to See's, he took his lunch break one day to drive up the maddening circus that is 360 to the candy shop, and personally selected candies he thought I would like to fill the box he presented to me.

He is observant about the things that matter.

And he is the best partner in the whole world for me.

This weekend (and right now in general), I was pretty hormonal. Sunday morning, I was sweeping the house and had a little pity party for myself. I started crying, and though brushing up mounds of cat fur and corn/pine litter isn't particularly inspiring, it doesn't generally bore me to tears.

James, who had been working at the computer, came into the kitchen where I was and just stood there. He didn't ask me what was wrong. James told me that his mom taught him not to pry into people's problems; if they want to talk to you, they'll talk to you. And I did want to talk to James; I want to tell him everything... But in this case, my feelings were hurt in reaction to something someone else did, and in that moment, talking to James about it before I'd had a chance to talk it over with that person felt like gossip, so I didn't want to do that.

Also, if I'd thrown the broom down and crumpled in James' arms, he would have supported me. But I really wanted to finish sweeping more than I wanted to indulge in a total breakdown, thus completely wasting my time.

Still, that sweet man stood in the kitchen, available but unassuming, giving me my space, but not too much space, until he was satisfied that I was okay. He didn't sit as his computer and ignore the "crazy woman hysterics" in the next room. He acknowledged me by this presence and was available. And he wasn't offended that I chose not to utilize him any more than I did.

In other words, it was perfect.

I know James himself isn't perfect. But he's perfect for me. He is brilliant and driven and busy and introverted, but he manages not to make me feel stupid; he takes time to play Scrabble (on the couch, even, so I can keep my feet up) and share old movies with me; he will sit and talk to me for hours, even when it's the third day we've been in the house together.

I love that man, and I love our life together. I hope we have lots and lots of years left to enjoy it.

The first time we visited See's, for their pre-grand-opening blogger event.

May I Be Frank?

Okay, here's the situation...

(My parents went away on a week's vacation, and they left the keys to the brand new Porsche. Would they mind? Mmm... well, or course not.)

If you got that reference, you're old, too. Just like I am.

Maybe that's why I'm so dang grumpy. Maybe it's just hormones. When I read the pregnancy journal I kept with Daphne, I was pretty disgruntled all of the time.

But here's the deal: With a maximum of a few weeks left in this pregnancy, I am over talking about it. It's getting redundant, and as much as I appreciate everyone's interest and excitement, it's starting to feel more like a burden than shared enthusiasm.

Here are a few of the things I hear nearly every day:

1) A version of: "Whose birthday will be first? Yours or the baby's?" "Do you think the baby will be early?" "Oh, you're hungry/grumpy/a cat magnet/cleaning/restless/lazy? That means it's almost time!" "When is your due date?"

Since it is in three hours, I feel pretty safe saying that my birthday will be first. The "estimated due date" (EDD) is September 4, but that means practically nothing. In France, the standard gestation for a human is 41 weeks instead of 40. I do not think I became pregnant 2 weeks after my LMP, which is how the EDD is calculated. I think it was probably a week later. I believe this due to the fact that if I'd become pregnant exactly two weeks after my LMP, the pregnancy test I took just after New Year's Day would have been positive, and it was not. It was another 10 days or so before it "registered."

In my real life, I'm often manic and I binge-eat stuff and I get in really bad moods and one of my cats is obsessed with me. It all happens. It's not an arbiter of impending birth or else I'd be dropping babies every few days.

I'm not sure how useful it is to try to guess when the baby will be born. I have no way of knowing. I know I'm not in labor NOW, if that's what you're asking. I've been having contractions for over a month, and that doesn't mean much, either.

I tend to share stuff fairly widely most of the time, and I'm not holding out on anyone. I can get pretty impatient myself, and having people prodding me all of the time to move things along just rubs me the wrong way.

2) Are you sure you should be doing that? / Let me carry that for you. / Bless your heart.

It's not that I don't appreciate politeness and helpfulness, it's just that I'm not a fragile, precious little thing. I promise everyone that I'm not only pretty darn self-preserving, but I'm also under the care of professionals to whom I disclose all of my activity, and they are excited about it. In fact, this week my midwife and I were discussing the fact that I don't have stretch marks yet, and she said a lot of that can be chalked up to my continued exercise (and diet, but honestly the quality of that has declined a bit over the past few weeks as I'm sort of taking advantage of the last bit of increased metabolism to indulge somewhat... but rest assured I'm eating the healthy stuff, too; just not exclusively).

My body has told me when to stop and when to rest, and I listen. It's fine for me to lift things. If I need help, I'll ask. Being fussed over needlessly stresses me out.

3) You must be miserably hot.

Well, I live in Austin and it's summer, so yes. But I'm no more miserable this year than I was last year.

4) I'll bet this is so much harder than it was 12 years ago. / I'll be you're feeling this pregnancy a lot more than you did in your 20s.

Actually, no, I'm not. I'm more fit, and I'm just as healthy, and being pregnant is pretty easy and actually even great for me.

5) Just a few more days... You must be so excited!

Must I? I read today that this is a common thing people tell super-expectant moms, so I guess it's just a sort of mindless filler thing to say, but I liked one woman's response, which was, "I'm more curious and apprehensive than excited."

I can relate. I mean, I wanted to have a baby with James. That part is exciting: our building our family together. But I'm not particularly "excited" about actually birthing a kid. It's been 12 years, but I remember how intensely painful labor was with Daphne, and I even got an epidural with that one. This time, that's not an option.

Also, there are still so many unknowns. I'm about to be very honest, and here's what I request: please do not respond with any assurances that these things are likely not to happen, or that 20 years from now Daphne and this baby will have a great relationship, or anything like that. I am rational. I know that things will settle into normalcy at some point, regardless of the specifics at any given time. But I'm telling you why I'm not just super giddy about the thought of ending this very predictable, healthy, easy pregnancy for the chaos to come.

Although we've had no reason for concern so far with the two ultrasounds we've had, we've declined genetic testing and don't know what to expect. I hope and pray for a healthy baby, but we are both older and the risk factor for many things is increased.

I had intense postpartum depression after Daphne was born. That's a definite possibility this time around, too. Not extremely excited about that.

The baby might be good-natured like Daphne (who still seemed to cry an awful lot, but that was probably due largely to my need to schedule, which is not something I'm going to do this time), but it also might have colic. My mental and emotional states suffer horrifically with sleep deprivation, and if we add postpartum stuff to that, it's a misery cocktail.

Also, if the baby is colicky, this is going to be a huge deal for the near-teenager in my house, who is already not looking forward to having a baby around. If I'm stressed and she's stressed and she expresses negative feelings enough that I take it personally and lash out, then she might get the impression that I care more about the baby than her and that can mess up our relationship.

I don't live in fear. I will be happy and love the baby when it's born, and we as a family will do whatever it takes to support and love each other. That's all good stuff. But to me, the more "exciting" part of pregnancy is at the beginning, when it's new and far enough away not to be quite so "real."

Now it's kind of like the week of finals when you're working for an advanced degree, and you've done everything that you can, and you're prepared, and you still have the final and then your life will change one way or another... except in this case, you don't know exactly when they're going to call you in to defend your dissertation. And you don't know exactly what they're going to demand of you, so even though you've prepared as best you can, it's not impossible that they'll make you stay in school for the rest of your life, when you went into the whole thing planning to pass and get out and move on to bigger and better things. So you just have to wait and see.

6) Do you know what you're having? / I think it's a boy/girl! / Would you rather have a girl or a boy?

Yes, we're having a baby (according to the 18-week ultrasound; hopefully it has not gestated into a dinosaur or anything, although that might present some creative and potentially lucrative opportunities). Placing a great deal of importance on the gender of a baby seems weird to me. Ask me what I "want" to have, and I say one thing but then have a baby of a different gender... and do you think I'll love it less? So why plant a flag in a preference? I can't control it and ultimately, I don't actually care. I do find people's rationales for believing that the baby is a certain sex to be wildly amusing, so you guys can keep that up. I enjoy it.

I do have to give mad props to everyone for not asking Daphne about the baby anymore. It's been weeks and weeks since anyone's talked to her about it, and I appreciate that greatly. I might request that you do the same for me over the next couple of weeks, resting in the full security that once the baby arrives, everyone will know about it.

I'm trying to stay busy, and focused on my family and activities. I am still blogging, still cooking, still making videos, still going places, still getting exercise, still a hopefully interesting person outside of the expectancy. And, yes, I have been blogging about the pregnancy, because aspects of it are funny and irritating and glorious to me, and I've seen recently, going back and reading the blog I started when I was pregnant with Daphne, that keeping a record of these things is important and useful. But it's not the sum total of my life, and having people continually focus on that, and redirect my focus on it, is exhausting. It's been the better part of a year already but these last few weeks are the longest. So if we can concentrate on other things, that'll be awesome.

Thanks, friends. <3

And Now For Something Completely Different

As I've mentioned, I quit my job and have significantly dialed back my commitments, because I want to be ready to go without having to flake out on any responsibilities. However, the weekend before last, this made me exceedingly bored and grumpy, giving me too much time to think about how hot it is and how much effort it takes to get up off of the couch, and how many times I have to do this in any given hour because the restroom is way over there.

I decided that this week would be different. This week, we'd make plans. We'd have fun. We'd stay busy.

Following is a video I made about the first half of this week. A quick caveat: I'm still figuring things out with video production on this laptop. The cameras I use have HD capability, but I wasn't able to publish to HD with Adobe Premiere Pro, and I wasn't able to do it with Windows Live Movie Maker, either. I am beginning to think that this has to do with my crappy laptop processor, but if you have any ideas, let me know. I might just have to go back to the Mac when it comes to video editing and rendering. I was trying to diversify but so far have been unimpressed with other editing software and with this operating system.

Fortunately, I'm okay with "good enough," and I hope you enjoy the first half of a pretty busy week. I *do* think I'm finished bike riding for a while, though. Also, all of the lifting and lowering into and out of the river that I did yesterday has my upper body feeling like hamburger meat today, so although I have a packed schedule, none of it includes any weight-bearing... and for that, I am grateful!

So far, it's been a great week with some of my favorite people: family! Today is all about healthcare and friends. Stay tuned!

Weekend Butt-Kicking

This has been the first time this year that I have felt entirely worn out, sick, and totally over this whole pregnancy thing.

Yesterday, I woke up at about 7:30 and ate some breakfast, but was almost immediately ready to go back to sleep. I didn't, and needed to run a couple of errands, so went to the post office to mail Daphne's birthday present for her grandma (note: in the future, have her do stuff on paper that will roll up or on canvas; it was $17 to mail a flat box big enough for the thick card stock!) then went to Kohl's.

Now. I don't love shopping in stores, and for this reason had very specifically ordered online from Kohl's during a great sale they had. I was able to get Daphne a bathing suit (Zero Xposur, which is my favorite brand ever), swim shorts, and a winter jacket for $59.50, shipping included. We got the order in last week, then the next day, we got the same order again. Uh.

I called Kohl's and asked them about returning it, and they assured me I could take it into any of their stores for a refund, no questions asked. I explained that I order online because I don't have the time or energy to go to a store, and asked if they could send me a return authorization, but they said that even though their warehouse made the mistake, since the order was under $100, I needed to take it into a store for a refund.

Ugh. And because I know that now is not the time to procrastinate, I headed over there to return the duplicates. The customer service lady rang everything up and told me my refund would be $59.50, and she also informed me that I'd lose $10 in Kohl's Cash (basically free merchandise). I asked her, "About that... to make up for the fact that I had to drive down and take my time and gas to fix a mistake that your warehouse made, can I keep the extra $10 Kohl's Cash?" After speaking with her manager, they agreed to adjust whatever purchase I made in the store that day by $10.

I went to look around and found their ladies' socks on sale buy one/get one half off. I got a $14 set for me and a normally-$12 set for Daphne, so the total was exactly $20. When I took it back up to the front to check out, the lady rang everything up, took off the $10 I'd actually earned from ordering the merchandise in the first place, and informed me that I owed $10.81. I reminded her what they'd just told me, that they'd allow me to use the other $10 I'd appeared to earn from having the second order I did not place. It took a few minutes, but she finally realized what needed to happen, and I walked out of there with six pair of socks, my refund, and had spent no extra money.

When I got into the van, I was so hot and exhausted. I looked at the clock and wondered aloud, "How can it only be 10:08?!"

I got home and was both ravenously hungry and entirely drained. I laid down on the couch and noticed that I felt nauseated. I knew I needed to eat, but didn't feel like I would be able even to make a sandwich until I'd slept a while.

James approached me, asking about food and whether I wanted to walk to lunch with him. By the way, at this point, Daphne was still asleep. She'd stayed up until 2:00 AM the night before, every other Friday being the only time she can stay up as late as she wants... so I let her.

I was so hangry and tired that I wouldn't agree to do our usual, which was to walk up Guadalupe until we find something we like. I wanted to know exactly where we would stop. I did not have the energy to set off on an adventure, and I think James picked up on my desperation when I suggested a Mexican place near the house. I don't particularly love Mexican food (I know; I live in the wrong town), and he sensed that if I was willing to go there, I was in a hurry to get food nearby, so that's where we went.

After I'd gotten a couple of egg tacos (one potato and one cactus) into me, I felt much better. Then we came home and I slept for two hours.

When I woke up, James was ready to play a game so we got out the Scrabble. He beat me, having pulled ahead mid-game when he used all of his tiles and got a 50-point bonus. We're usually pretty closely-matched, so it's hard to come back from that kind of thing.

I was already feeling famished again at this point, and was seriously stalking Yelp reviews for Austin gelato joints because looking at the pictures and reading descriptions of the flavors was like porn for me at that point.

The whole day, once I felt hungry, I felt sick. Like too sick to get up and get any food for myself. I just wanted to sit on the couch and whine about how hungry I was, and sleep a lot. And it was SO HOT. I was sweating all day in addition to the exhaustion.

Finally, a bit after 5, I finally got up to make some dinner and found that the eMeals menu for the night was protein-heavy, so I was happy. My protein levels are still low, even though I'm trying very conscientiously to up my intake. Last night, we had chicken lettuce wraps with peanut sauce and a strawberry avocado salad that was interesting and refreshing. Eating definitely helped me feel better, but after dinner, all I was good for was sitting on the couch until about 8:30 PM, at which time I retired to bed.

The past week or so, as soon as I fall asleep, I start having vivid, detailed dreams. This happens when I sleep on the couch or at night in bed. Immediate stories. Lots of them are tiring. It's like I'm dragging my entire life through my sleeping mind at this point; it's a pageant of old friends, old business, old jobs, old pets, etc.

Last night, I got up three times to use the restroom... sort of. First of all, I was in bed for nearly 10 hours, so that average isn't really too bad. Second, the second time I got up, it wasn't really because of the call of nature.

I have had this weird thing where my left forearm itches like the Dickens during the summer. It feels like I have a rash, but there's no discoloration on my arm. I always assumed it was from driving and the sunlight only really hits that arm, because last summer when I wasn't driving at all, it didn't really bother me. This summer, though, it's back with a vengeance AND I'm even getting it in the right arm, though it's not as intense. Now that I Google it, it looks like Brachioradial Pruritus which might have a connection to the nervous system and spine issues, which might also explain why I didn't have it last summer, since my spine was busy trying to kill me.

Anyway, I woke up at around 2 this morning with my left arm itching so badly in 4 places that it hurt. I was determined not to scratch it because I know it's not a "real" thing... it's just a sensation. But not scratching it made it excruciatingly painful. By the way, except for last summer, the same thing has happened for the past 5 or 6 years which is that my continual scratching stimulates the hair follicles on my left arm, and my hair grows longer and faster on that arm so that it looks like it's covered in blonde fur.

I finally got out of bed to put lotion on my arms, but they were still bugging me so I went to the bathroom and got a different lotion while I was in there. Then I went back to bed and shoved my arm under a pillow I don't typically use that has a scratchy kind of cover, and that pressure helped distract me enough that I was able to go back to sleep.

This morning, I woke up and went to Kolache Factory to get us breakfast. Daphne and I had to be at church early because I was doing video, and it's easier to have portable food in case she's difficult to rouse at 7:30. I had a delicious spinach kolache (iron!) and a cream cheese one. We had a coupon for buy three/get three, so we all had a nice breakfast (James later, after we were gone) and the morning went by fairly uneventfully except that I was so sleepy during church.

We ran to the store on the way home, and I got some Gold Bond medicated lotion. It seems to be helping, but the medicine is attractive to Rudy, who wants to lick it off. Fortunately, it seems to soak in quickly so that he's not obsessed like he is with Icy Hot.

I also got an HEB pizza and some ice cream, because I was once again beyond hungry. While the pizza cooked, I vacuumed and mopped, then we had lunch and I sat down to relax.

James asked me if I wanted to go to an open house for a property that's super close to his work, and I did, so we headed over there. It turns out we have to wait until next year to look into buying, which is sort of a load off as I was feeling super stressed about packing and moving right now, or even in the next few months. We have a vacation planned for next winter, too, so I'd love to wait until we get that all paid for and out of the way. Regardless, it was a nice drive over and I love spending time with my husband.

When we got back, James was beat and laid down on the couch for a nap. His feet were filthy, so as he dozed off, I washed them and put lotion on them because I'd been ragging on him about getting our kitchen floor dirty and I wanted him to know that I was a woman of compassionate action, not just whining. Then he fell asleep for an hour or so, during which I realized what a hot, uncomfortable, giant baby I have become this week.

I sat in the leather recliner (which doesn't totally recline due to the size limitations of this room and the contents herein) for half an hour or so, but was just not comfortable. Then I sat at the kitchen table. Finally, I decided to take a shower because I could not stop sweating, and during the shower, I determined that I might just be a big enough baby to ask James to move a bit so I could sit in my spot on the couch, because apparently it is the only place where I can get comfortable these days.

So, yes, I'm pretty. But let's also remember that I sat up in a straight-backed chair at a table for more than three hours at church, and I don't usually do that. I *did* get a second chair for my feet, which I placed across the table from me. That worked okay, but I was close to the under-table support.

Another thing is that I felt myself being just on the verge of irritation most of the weekend, for absolutely no reason.

My point in this rambling missive is that this was the first weekend that I have felt out of sorts due to pregnancy, and just totally over it, and too tired to function, and too hungry to be pleasant, etc. So far today, I'm feeling a bit better; maybe it's good that I have nowhere to go and can just collect my energy.

When I was looking up pictures of slugs yesterday to illustrate how I was feeling, Daphne helpfully suggested this: the blobfish. That's pretty much spot-on as to how I felt all weekend. You're welcome.

*twiddling thumbs*

Sooooo... What's going on?

It's pretty hot here. Yesterday was milder, and Sarah and I got out at 6:00 AM to ride the Town Lake Boardwalk trail I'd ridden Sunday morning by myself. Because of the weather and the early hour, it was actually mildly chilly when we first left. It felt good. But it was DARK until we got to the Town Lake Dam, about half way through the 9.7 mile route.

In the space of 1 week, overlapping Wednesdays, I rode my bike about 35 miles and some change. Not too shabby for an 8-month pregnant lady, right?

What else?

Ehh. Nothing, actually.

Last weekend, I bought a bunch of bulk stuff to chop and marginally prepare and freeze so that making dinners will be easier later. That took a lot of time.

But other than that, I feel like we're kind of coasting.

Yesterday, I washed all of our sheets and blankets; I took everything out of the kitchen and bathroom and really swept and mopped; I swept the whole house thoroughly... in addition to a midwife visit and bike riding. The day before that, I deep cleaned the bathroom, hand-washed all of the dishes (our dishwasher sucks right now), did several loads of laundry, and prepared lunch and breakfast for yesterday so I could ride bikes and still have everything done. I also broke into the quilling supplies that Patsy sent Daphne and made a name plate thing for her door (which the cats managed to partially destroy, of course). Monday, I cut and froze a bunch of vegetables and some meat and that took several hours; I also took all of the stuff off of the shelves in the bathroom so I could clean them and wipe down the shelving unit. Then I made our dinner as usual. Sunday, I'd made our other two meals for the day because I knew I wanted to get bulk stuff ready on Monday. For some reason, the waffle recipe for Monday morning made a TON of almond butter waffles, so we have about three dozen waffles in the freezer.

So I suppose I'm not coating coasting. I'm staying busy enough. But I do feel a lot like I'm killing time. I don't want to overfill my schedule, committing to things I'll have to drop. I don't want to start any big projects or take on any responsibilities I can't fulfill.

Today, I was trying to get in a quick nap before a couple of ladies came over, but I have a problem napping during the day because I start to snore, which wakes me up. If I snore at night, apparently I'm dead zonked enough that it doesn't rouse me. I asked James if I snore, and he said, unbelievably, "Nope! Not at all." When I called him on it, he amended his answer to say that it was adorable, which is an outright lie. But he's a nice guy.

As I was resting, though, I got a nervous feeling in my stomach as I considered the fact that I haven't really thought about bringing this baby home. Maybe it's because I learned my lesson with Daphne: You can't imagine it, anyway. It will never look how you expect it to look. But I haven't considered what this kid will be like, or how the sleeping stuff will work, or feeding, or any of it. I had read so many books before I had Daphne that I had fooled myself into thinking that I knew what I was doing. Of course, that was a load of hoo-ha, and perhaps it's better that this time, I'm prepared to fly by the seat of my proverbial pants.

I suppose I should enjoy this calm before the storm, instead of feeling mildly guilty for not "doing more." It's good to put some energy and sleep deposits into my storage because I know that soon, I'll be making some massive withdrawals.

But that's why there's really not much to report. We're just sort of in a holding pattern until stuff starts happening. You guys will be the first to know. Or second. Or like 12th, at the very least.

The Last Month (hopefully!)

Now we've reached the part of the pregnancy where I'll be walking up the hill to the midwife's every week for a quick check-in. It's kind of fun that all of my information is online and I can access it very easily. Check this out:

The two weeks that my pulse is the highest? The first time, June 11, was during my glucose test. I was processing sugar. The second time, this week, was after I'd gotten up and ridden my bike 9.66 miles then got home with exactly enough time to take a shower and cram a Nutella/fig preserves sandwich down my gullet. So... processing sugar. :) I'm nothing if not consistent.

I was reminded yesterday that I'm super competitive about some things, too. Like ridiculously. First of all, James had his blood pressure taken at the urologist's yesterday. When she read it off, my reaction was, "Suck it! I WIN!" when, actually, his blood pressure is probably a bit too high. What a jerk! Then, when the nurse practitioner realized that James hadn't had a prostate exam in twenty years and therefore palpated it just to make sure we weren't dealing with anything risky, my initial thought was, "This lady just got further with James than I've ever been." Never mind the grimace of pain on his face, or his clenched... well, everything. I might have some issues.

We are both very excited and happy about this particular baby, but we obviously have a plan in the works to avoid further baby-making. While James and I have agreed on this (with his agreement taking a much more drastic commitment than mine does), I don't know that we've discussed the nitty-gritty reasons for pursuing such a permanent solution.

It's all about age; though, for me, it has less to do with "I don't want to be 60 and still have a kid in the house" (I probably will) than it does, "Every day that passes increases the risk of genetic mutations, birth defects, miscarriages, etc." While this pregnancy has been mostly easy and actually enjoyable, there has been a low-level anxiety throughout, if I've allowed myself to think about it much. First, we had an unsuccessful pregnancy already. It was obvious that that one was not going to be viable, and even if I'd carried it longer than 10 weeks, it still would not have made it.

So at first, I had some nerves with this one. Even after the 8-week ultrasound revealed a heartbeat, later on I had some bleeding and went straight to, "Okay, not this time, either." Obviously, it wasn't a big deal and here we are months later. But there's still a thing. The 18-ish week ultrasound was fine. All of the pertinent areas of development were present and accounted for with no anomalies. And in the Doppler since then, I've seen the brain, and it's intact, which probably means that the baby will take after its dad.

Now, I don't live in a place of nervousness. But I also don't try to imagine too much what it will be like after the baby is born, like I did with Daphne. It's all too real to me that the baby might have an issue we haven't been able to pinpoint in the womb. I think the obsession with "ten fingers, ten toes" is ridiculous because I don't actually care whether this kid has a stump or eight digits on one side. But I desperately (and probably selfishly) wish for it to be developmentally and medically unremarkable. I want James to walk through the exhausting yet mundane spectrum of parenting that goes along with the "typical" experience.

Struggling with those realities, and then the second-guessing of my character for wanting it to be as easy as parenting possibly can be, and all of the associated mind games is why I'm ready for this to be the last baby I will ever have. I adore James, and I'd love to have five kids with him. But I feel like our biological clocks have now become time bombs, and that it's probably best for everyone if we pack it up after this one.

And that's the thing; it *will* be after this one. First of all, it is for expediency's sake, as James and I will both be in recovery simultaneously (though mine will bookend his a couple of weeks on both sides). Secondly, if something happened like a stillbirth (I know, God forbid, but it happens), who knows but that we're not foolishly in love enough to want to try just one more time? Thirdly, if I have to have some emergency procedure instead of the low-key no-intervention birth I am idealizing, then we can go ahead and take care of the birth control on my end.

This weekend, I plan to buy and prepare about 20 meals to have in the freezer. I'll need to supplement with fresh veggies and fruits, but at least our main dishes will be handled for a while. My sister and I might get together to chop and chat, and I think we're riding our bikes Sunday morning, if anyone else wants to meet us and check out the new Town Lake Boardwalk. I'm pretty excited about that!

Because I only have 2 adjustments left in my chiropractic package, I didn't go this week. I've felt it! I need to adjust myself more often, and find my back popping when I turn in a way that it doesn't when I've been "set." I go in on Monday, then will wait another two weeks and that'll be it. I'll actually probably pay for one home visit. Laine said her favorite thing is newborn home visits. She'll adjust me and do a light baby adjustment. At some point, I want to get D into her office, since she spends so much time hunkered over drawing.

Tonight, I have a mystery shop dinner and it's time to start getting ready for that. Trying to hold off on the snacking this afternoon so I'll be ready... but it's *whine* so hard! I probably need to start depriving myself even when I "feel" hungry just to get into the habit. The baby's fine and I'm fine and I don't need to feel sated to stuffed every second of the day. It has been fun while it's lasted, though! I'm super good at indulging.

A Serious Post About the Kid I Already Have

Daphne has always been an only child. She has loved it. One time, after her first cat disappeared (I think he ended up co-opted by the across-the-street neighbors who had about 8 indoor cats) when she was 6, in petitioning for another cat, she said, "You're always busy, Dad's always on the computer, and I don't have a sibling to play with, so I get lonely." Although that had a bunch of hyperbole in it, it touched me and she got another cat. And another two cats when that one died. So I might be a sucker and/or a glutton for punishment.

Beyond that, she's never referenced wanting anyone around to accompany her.

She has also always been resistant to change.

When Daphne was very small, in order to get her to give up her one formula bottle she was drinking every morning, we had a big ceremony of her taking her baby bottles out of the cabinet, putting them in a trash bag, and personally delivering them to the garbage man when he came that day. Then we stood on the curb and waved them down the street.

From that time, when she was probably 15-18 months old, until she was 7 years old, every morning, she had a Sippy cup full of Ovaltine. I had to make the Ovaltine. If anyone else made it, she didn't like it. (I only used 2 spoons full of powder, which was a fraction of what's recommended.) I microwaved it for 1 minute, 11 seconds. Then Daphne would sit in my lap and play with my hair while she drank. She liked playing with my hair when it was straight and dry. If I'd already showered that morning and my hair was damp, she wasn't happy. If I'd curled my hair, she didn't like it. She preferred everything the exact same way. Every. Day. For over five years. (I finally made her stop when the Sippy cup lid was blistering her tongue because of how slowly the liquid comes out and her fighting to get it out more quickly.)

She also stayed in gymnastics probably a good year after she was "through" because I think she'd put a lot of her identity in it and didn't know how to quit (read: change). I told her dozens of times: "Gym isn't what you are; it's just something you do." But until we decided to move away, at which time she said, "Let's just quit gym NOW then, because there's no point learning new tricks," she was resistant to change that... before there was no choice.

When we moved to Austin, Daphne and I were burnt out. We had been going to my work every weekday at 10 AM, then home for lunch at 2 PM. I'd take her to the gym at 3 and return to work, then either work out and pick her up from the gym at 7, or, if I were in a play, a friend would bring her to the theater and we'd hang out there until rehearsals were over at 10. I had Fridays off, and we were part of a homeschool co-op.

So when we got into town, we decided to take a break from "leaving." We stayed home a lot. It felt great. Very free and luxurious. And Daphne got used to that. We tried a couple of things like PE classes and parkour, but over all, Daphne just liked being home. She's an introvert and needs a lot of down time. She loves hanging out with her cousins, but after a few hours of that, she needs quiet again. Because I am marginally extroverted, this is something I'm trying to understand. Having James around has helped me with that a lot.

To review: introvert, contented only child, resistant to change.

Daphne got "used to" James pretty fast, because he's just a cool guy and he's not socially demanding. Sharing me with a grown-up, though, was a totally different thing than sharing me with a baby. Daphne has no experience with babies, except for the noisy ones we encounter in public. Because of those, she is not impressed.

Daphne does not know what will happen when the baby comes. She has had some anxiety about that, and somewhat recently, when James and I finally pulled some stuff out of her about it, we realized that she had unrealistic expectations regarding her personal responsibility for the care of the baby. We straightened that out, but she still truly has no idea what it's going to look like. Honestly, none of us knows exactly what to expect. The difference is that James and I are the parents and vaguely planned for this. Daphne is having it foisted upon her.

Ever since people have learned that I'm expecting, they have attempted to bring Daphne into the circle of excitement, and she patently refuses to join. I'm okay with that; she is allowed to feel how she feels. Other people don't seem to like it as much.

But if you love my daughter, would you do me a favor during the next month or so, and even after the birth? It would mean a lot to this momma who was just fine having only one kid because she's always been "enough."

1) Please just stop asking her if she's excited. She will tell you the truth, that she's not, and often people aren't sure how to respond and will say something like, "Aww, you MUST be excited." No, she must not.

2) Acknowledge her for herself as an individual, not a potential big sister. She has interests and likes to talk about fandoms and art and music. Not so much babies.

3) Don't tell her that she will change her mind once the baby is born. Again, this just invalidates to her how she feels. And I'm not saying that she's stubborn, but it does seem to reinforce her commitment to staying checked out of the whole thing.

4) Don't say the same thing to me in her presence, even if she's in the other room and you think she's not listening. She is. It comes off to her as condescending.

5) Daphne doesn't need to be "sold" on being a big sister. You don't have to tell her the benefits of having a little sibling, especially things like how the little will idolize her and want to be just like her. What she hears when you say that is, "This kid is going to follow you around, stick to you like glue, watch everything you do, tear up your room," etc.

6) After the baby is born, please ask Daphne questions about herself and her life and her art and her "stuff." Don't make all of the questions about how it's going with a baby in the house.

Daphne has some anxiety associated with the arrival of a sibling. I am confident that it's all going to calm down and be fine, but there's really no way to prepare Daphne for it; she's just going to have to experience it. And having so many people trying to "help" her just reinforces that a huge shake-up is around the bend, and adds to her dread.

My sweet Mema used to be very stressed out by the knowledge that other people weren't happy happy happy, and she tried to make sure they were, even when it meant ignoring their reality. I'm completely chill with the way things are, and don't think Daphne's attitude is something to be "fixed." I've struggled much less graciously against unwanted change in my life. If we can all just cut the kid some slack and let her be herself where she is right now, I think that would help a lot.

Also, if you want to pray with me that she'll make at least one close friend when she starts Monday classes this fall, I'd appreciate it! Our "time out" from extra-curricular activities has made her very comfortable with being alone, to the point that she'd rather associate with online friends than real-world present people most of the time. I get this; I really do. But I'd love for her to have someone here she can talk to and hang out with on occasion. She had made a potentially good friend in BSF, but sadly she had to move last spring. Daphne misses her a lot. It's exhausting starting over with a new person. That is one thing I understand completely.

Thanks for loving my girl! I surely do.

Why Do People Keep Saying That I Need a Shower??

Over the past few months, I've had several people either ask if/when we're having a baby shower or offer to host one. That's so awesome, and I appreciate everyone's care and interest, but James and I decided early on that we're a mature, currently-financially-stable couple who can afford to buy our own baby stuff.

This is not to say that we haven't been hugely blessed by the generosity of others, because we have. There are so many things people have given us or offered to give us (that we had to turn down in the interest of space): clothes, blankets, a crib, books, toys, bath stuff, and even a breast pump!

At this point, we have pretty much everything that we need. But for you who have asked how you can help, here are a few more ideas:

1) If you're one of those people who really loves to make a beautiful diaper "cake," you could try your hand at making a toilet paper roll "cake." We have cloth diapers, and already bought a couple of packages of disposable for the first week or so, so we're set on that. But it feels like I'm running to CVS for toilet paper all of the time. We don't have a lot of room around here for storage, so if you wanted to make a showpiece out of TP, I could leave it out somewhere and that would save me a lot of time going to the store. We have the same issue with cat litter, but I'm not sure how bringing bags of that over would sate your crafty bent.

2) Find us a diaper genie. I don't mean the plastic canister system where you keep the dirties. I am talking a literal magic genie who will blink dirty diapers rinsed, washed, dried, hung in the sun to disinfect, and neatly folded back into piles for use immediately. Actually, the magic here is negotiable. As long as it gets done, I won't be too picky. But I'd prefer either a male genie or a matronly one, because my post-pregnancy hormones don't need the stress of a bikini-topped see-through-harem-pants-clad temptress floating around the house when James is home from work.

3) Back to the diaper cake: You could make or order a real cake to look like a fake diaper cake. Not trying to beat a dead horse here, but I do love me some cake.

4) James' two cents: Bring liquor. Lots of it.

5) We know we have several friends who are dripping in cash, and if that's you, there's this great little house we're looking at near the Mueller development that you could buy for us. Also, we'd love for you to add on a second bathroom before we move in, and then arrange to have all of our stuff packed, moved, and unpacked. But we're not too concerned with the minutiae how all of this gets accomplished. If you want to do it, we'll leave all of the planning to you.

6) Follow this link and see if anything strikes your fancy.

This one is cake AND liquor, so it works for James AND for me!

Thanks to everyone who's been walking the past few months with us! We're nearing the finish line at last! (Ooh, now I want to go to Finland; I'll bet it's cooler there.)

The Top Ten Things (for me) About Being Pregnant

Yes, it's summer. Yes, it's warm. I don't feel like it's "more" warm because I'm ripening with child (poetic, right?). I was miserable last summer, too. It's Austin, and it's just hot and humid and disgusting.

As I've mentioned, people often ask me about "feeling" this pregnancy more than I did when I was expecting Daphne, but, honestly, I'm probably in better physical shape now, and I've had a blessed lack of ambient stress for the most part, so it's all pretty good.

In fact, I'm feeling so great, I think I might have missed my calling as a surrogate mother, helping couples' dreams come true... And now I'm too old.

So, lest I retain a stone of water in a couple of weeks like I did with D and forget how awesome this whole thing has been, I will count down for you my ten favorite things about being pregnant. These are not in any kind of order. Just ten things.

10) An excuse to indulge in chiropractic. Man, I love getting adjustments. In a world where I'm not too cheap to do it, I'd go to the chiropractor regularly. As it is, I only go when there's a "problem" or something to be treated. Pregnancy is the best "nothing's wrong, but this makes it even better" excuse for that!

9) An excuse to indulge. We know I love the junk food and fancy foodie-type stuff. I typically eat fairly healthily, anyway, but when I'm pregnant, I'm SUPER mindful of getting the vitamins and minerals and balance that I need, so I feel extra entitled to indulge in stuff I might otherwise avoid, including "liquid calories" like shakes and Slurpees and chocolate almond milk and even some fruit juices. And I don't feel guilty later. Just really happy.

8) Confidence in my appearance. I don't obsess over my looks much; I'm pretty low maintenance. I can be in bed, turn off the alarm, and be ready to leave the house in 15 minutes But of course, I like to look nice, and sometimes I'm taken aback when I catch a surprise glimpse of myself in the mirror or a picture of me taken from an angle I don't view on a regular basis (and since we only have a face-height, face-sized mirror in the house, that's a lot of territory). But right now, seeing pictures of myself shockingly huge is just all kinds of precious. Every day after I wave James down the street when he leaves for work, I catch my profile in the window on the porch, and it makes me smile. I don't try to suck it in at all! I can't!

7) My sebaceous glands take it easy for a few months. Ever since I've been an adult, I've had a difficult time growing out my hair. James and I saw a girl filling up her car at 7-11 the other day, and she had this beautiful, healthy, past-booty-length blonde hair. When I commented on it, James tried to make me feel better by saying, "I'll bet it's a pain to maintain." Well. I'd gladly do it if that were an option for me. But it's not.

I know that not washing your hair and therefore not stripping it of its natural oils is supposed to be really good for its health, but my hair does not cooperate with this kind of thing. Normally, I wash my hair every other day. I don't wash it every day because I don't want to, but very often, by the middle of Day Two, it's annoying me like crazy as it looks like I slept in a hot oil treatment. My roots get all sticky and stringy, and I feel very self-conscious about how "dirty" it looks.

When I'm pregnant, though, that doesn't happen. In fact, I'll confess something to you: It's Wednesday evening right now and the last time I washed my hair was Sunday morning. I did put some dry shampoo in it last night before I went to bed because I thought I might go swimming today and didn't want to waste a wash when I'd just need to wash it again after. I ended up not swimming, so I won't be washing my hair until tomorrow morning. Check it out:

Um... I probably need to get to my roots, but that's a whole other thing. Also, I curled my hair with hot rollers on Monday morning, and it still has some cool wave to it. This I chalk up to having avoided the humidity most of the week.

Anyway, my hair grew out a LOT when I was expecting Daphne. A lot of people think that's because of the prenatal vitamins, but I don't take those because they're disgusting. My hair has grown out a bit during this pregnancy, but I recently got a really good hair cut (read: Not the $12 SuperCuts one) and it's certainly more healthy than usual. So I'll take the break in the "every other day mandatory wash" regimen!

6) My husband is especially attracted to pregnant women. He tells the story of trying to chat up and getting shot down by a lady in a bar once, and his friends all ragging on him for hitting on a pregnant lady. He hadn't realized she was pregnant until they pointed it out to him; he just thought she was beautiful.

James is always good about letting me know he appreciates my unique set of aesthetics, but he's particularly mesmerized by me right now. You know, because of "the glow." (Daphne rolled her eyes at that last night and said, "That's exactly what my friend said." She's not quite as taken in by the whole thing.) Sometimes he'll just be staring vacantly at me, and it's sweet and mildly creepy but I suppose he owes me for all of the times I do that to him, anyway.

5) I feel great! Sure, I've had some nausea and some heartburn, and have slept a lot, but overall, pregnancy hormones make me feel amazing. My bike rides are getting more difficult because of the excess weight, but that's a good thing! It's increasing resistance and forcing me to work harder, which is also good for me. I do have some meralgia parasthetica in my left leg, but that just means I have to sit down between "things," and you know what? That's probably good for me, too. It's easy for me to get caught up in the momentum of "doing" until I'm exhausted. Right now, my body is forcing me to empty the dishwasher, then sit down. Make dinner, then sit down. Vacuum, then sit down. And it still all gets done.

Bike riding is still my favorite because 1) it's hot; with biking, there's at least a breeze, and it doesn't take as long to get places and 2) the nerve pressure and stomach stress (and subsequent need for the belly belt) don't happen when I'm sitting on a bike. I am told that my center of gravity has changed, but I haven't found biking to feel weird. I'm hoping this activity is improving my postnatal health, too!

4) People are super gracious. When I'm pregnant, people who'd normally just look at me and look away will look at me and smile. They strike up conversations. In some cases, they might cross physical boundaries, but I apparently put out a strong enough "don't touch" vibe that I don't get that. Oh, they give me extra samples at the grocery store! They seem more cheerful about holding the door.

Also, being pregnant is about a 5-month pass from tons of things (it lasts all 9 months at home, but only as long as people "out there" know about the pregnancy). Group outing to clean up the park on a hot summer day? Oh, no! Not you, Laura! You don't need to be bending over and straining yourself in this heat. Heavy lifting, strenuous activity, no one wants to let me do it (and, honestly, I am perfectly able)!

James never lets me clean litter boxes, anyway, because he says the cats are his and Daphne's. But if it were a shared chore, I'd get nine months off of that.

Whereas someone might get annoyed if I flaked out or forgot something, during this time, they laugh and chalk it up to "pregnancy brain." Whether I neglect to pay a bill or miss an event to which I'd committed... People are more than willing to excuse me. It might help that I have some goodwill in the bank because I rarely do flake out in "real" life, but it's refreshing not to be made to feel guilty when I accidentally goof something up.

3) Buying stuff. I'm not a huge "hobby" shopper, but it's been a lot of fun finding cool baby stuff, then stalking it until the price drops, and using coupons and sales and codes and that kind of thing. Also, I bought a bunch of maternity stuff because I did start showing/feeling pregnant earlier than I did with Daphne, and I didn't have a lot of forgiving clothes to wear. With everything, I do research first, then position myself to be ready to buy when it's most advantageous. I do this with vacation plans, groceries, and pretty much anything. I'm kind of a geek that way. But it's nice to have an excuse to be able to "play." Plus, there is some uber-cool baby clothing and amazing products that have come out in the past decade!

One difference this time around is that we're going to try cloth diapering, so that was a lot of research before investment. Should save us more than a thousand dollars, though, in the long run. Also, James' mom made us diaper wipes out of felt, so we won't have to buy a bunch of wipes, either. I've gotten tons of samples and "free" (shipping only) items intended to seduce me into purchasing more... but I can milk a loss leader with absolutely no shame.

2) All the sleeps. I know some women have difficulty sleeping when they're expecting. Not this girl! Although I was absolutely wiped at first, by now, I tend to take a short nap during the day and sleep a good solid 8 hours at night. When I'm not pregnant, I am a light sleeper. I can't go to sleep because Taco Cabana's outdoor music is too loud. I get waken up by cats chasing each other through the house. Not right now! In fact, I've slept through James' alarm a couple of times, and I'm the one who is supposed to be up to wake James up because HE routinely sleeps through his alarm.

1) Mystery and weird body stuff. It's a little scary, but mostly exciting. The "scary" part is mostly, this time around, from having experienced a previous loss. With Daphne, I sort of expected that the pregnancy would lead to having a baby; I didn't make that assumption for a long time this time around. But still, there's that element of the unknown. What will the baby be like? How will the baby decide to make its appearance? What's going to happen next?

Also, my body is a source of amusement as it often operates independently of my brain. I'll be sitting here on my laptop, and it will try to pitch itself into the floor because of a well-placed kick. Or suddenly a restaurant where we've eaten several times has to sit us at a table instead of a booth because I can no longer fit into the confines.

I was having very obnoxious edema for a while, then I started chiropractic treatments and realized after a few adjustments that I wasn't swelling anymore. Why is that? What was going on that the alignments fixed? I probably never would have worked that out if I weren't pregnant. (And I did sometimes experience swelling, anyway; I assumed this was left over from my ruptured disc.)

Also, if not for the heartburn, I might never have tried and realized that I like very much almond milk. Or have found all of the protein-added products it'd probably do me good to incorporate into my normal diet because I don't gravitate toward natural protein sources, for some reason.

Finally, this isn't a general benefit of being pregnant, but this time around, I know a BUNCH of couples who are expecting. It's been a lot of fun to feel like I'm going through it with friends and family, some of whom are quite far-flung. But it's a nice sense of connection.