It seems like 2/3 of the women I know are pregnant, and of course one of the things that is super exciting to all of us is whether we're having a girl or a boy.
The funny part is, we can all have an opinion or a preference, but once we find out, we're all equally in love. Thank God the US doesn't have official policies that make this a matter of life and death (literally). But, even so, there are still norms and expectations that can put pressure on either of the sexes to do or be certain things.
Our nursery is gender-neutral. Thing is, Daphne's was, too, and I knew she was a girl. It was all space and astronauts and fun stuff.
There are several things I've come across recently that have really struck me. Before I link to them, I'll say this: Yes, I get that girls and boys are different. But one isn't better or worse, and there are definitely some things we as a society enforce that are illogical and unjust.
Here are a couple of videos:
I put that one first because it might have made you tear up, whereas this next one might make some of you say, "Yeah, but..." But stay in the spirit of the first video, okay? Stay with me here.
When I was in high school, one of my best girlfriends did not wear make-up. Like ever. Well, except in her senior picture, which didn't look like her *at all*. But I think it was expected that she should do that since she was a girl. And it was very jarring, because that wasn't her.
So, basically, if you ask, "What do you want to have?" the answer is that I want to have a kid who is comfortable in his or her own skin, who knows who he or she is, and who is given the freedom to explore and become whomever God made them. Even if I don't always understand it. Even if he faces difficulty because he is obsessed with baking and cake decorating (then again, this might just be wishful thinking on my part). Even if she is more comfortable writing fantasy worlds than hanging out giggling with a bunch of other pre-teens. Maybe he'll turn out to be the most awesome stay-home dad ever. Maybe she'll never marry and will live a quiet life raising animals in the country by herself.
As long as my kids are well and good, I'm not going to mar it by arbitrary expectations. I look forward to seeing how both of them turn out.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Sunday, June 29, 2014
In the storm, an island of peace
My life was pretty volatile in 2011. By the end of the year, I was worn out. But during the madness, there were pockets of peace and surprise blessing that reminded me that God hadn't gone anywhere and that he could be trusted.
2012 got a lot better, and after I moved to Austin, everything kind of fell into a place of contentment and rest. For a while, at least, it looks like things may be shaken up again and I appreciate everyone who's been praying. Those of you who have questions... I'm sorry, but I can't really answer those. I can't give specifics, especially not in a public forum, or in writing at all. There are people I need to respect and stories that aren't mine to tell wrapped up in all of it.
What I do want to tell you about, though, is a very cool thing that happened on Friday, amid some serious stress and concern.
Usually, I get up half an hour or so before James, make his coffee, make his lunch and breakfast... and, yes, I love it. He takes such good care of us that I relish the opportunity to take care of him. So, anyway, this time, he needed to use the restroom before I got into the shower, so I stayed in bed until he returned. Then I didn't feel very motivated to get up, so I laid there while he fell back to sleep and prayed over him.
His work has been stressful for him, and I prayed something I've never prayed before. I mean, I've prayed for him and for his work, but on this day, I actually laid my hands on him and prayed that today (Friday) would be different. That he'd know how much he's appreciated, and how much they value him.
At 1 o'clock, James texted me that he was on his way home. The only other time he's come home after half a day was when he'd lost a job. I thought, "Well, if they let him go, that's different, at least, so that's an answer."
As it turns out, his office had let everyone go home early to regroup from an intense few weeks.
So he was home by 1:30, and then all hell kind of broke loose that afternoon. Like, people were asking me, "Can someone be at your house with you?" and James was already here.
What's cool is how God not only answers prayer, but prompts us to pray for what we need even before we know we need it. Like I said, I'd never prayed, "Let today be different" before. But I did. And it was. Because God already knew, and he was already setting everything up... and he let me come along for the ride.
Now if I can just keep this in the forefront of my mind, not letting fear or anxiety take over, surfing the next few weeks shouldn't be too big of a deal.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
Tie-Dye Cake-in-a-Cake
My mother-in-law had posted a link to this Rainbow Tie-Dye Surprise Cake recently, and at first, I was skeptical that the inserts would actually work. Then I started to think about it and could see how, if you were careful, it could be really neat.
The example in the cake is a "5" but then if you were to use a 7 or a 4, it'd probably be a good idea to put the numbers in upside-down, then flip the cake to decorate it. I was thinking about musical notes and all of the other fun stuff you could hide in the cake, and I really wanted to try it.
Then reality struck:
1) I don't have any cookie cutters. I know; it's difficult to believe. But back when we downsized to move into the trailer, I got rid of EVERYTHING, including my collection of cookie cutters.
2) I don't have the Gigantor pan (which is a Wilton Long Loaf Pan, retailing for $15-20) in which she baked her cakes, nor was I particularly motivated to buy one. Or cookie cutters.
So I had a different idea, and here's what I did.
Used my fancy-schmancy trimmer to take off the rounded parts. I hate wasting cake, so of course we've been snacking on this stuff.
The good news is that even if you don't like fondant, using it helps seal in the moisture of the cake AND the frosting. You know how some frosting develops a slight "shell" when it's been exposed to the air? A cake covered with fondant won't do that.
The example in the cake is a "5" but then if you were to use a 7 or a 4, it'd probably be a good idea to put the numbers in upside-down, then flip the cake to decorate it. I was thinking about musical notes and all of the other fun stuff you could hide in the cake, and I really wanted to try it.
Then reality struck:
1) I don't have any cookie cutters. I know; it's difficult to believe. But back when we downsized to move into the trailer, I got rid of EVERYTHING, including my collection of cookie cutters.
2) I don't have the Gigantor pan (which is a Wilton Long Loaf Pan, retailing for $15-20) in which she baked her cakes, nor was I particularly motivated to buy one. Or cookie cutters.
So I had a different idea, and here's what I did.
First of all, I did NOT put the batter in five bags and pipe it. I just blorped it down in spoonfuls, then used a knife to swirl each of the three layers. Also, I only used two cake mixes total, rather than the four called for in the original recipe.
After I trimmed the top off, I cut off the edges and then cut the cake in half lengthwise.
After I did this, I realized that instead of putting the insert in "right side up," I needed to lay it down. The batter only barely covered it, but once it was cooked, the cake had risen enough to cover it completely, though with no wiggle room (meaning, I couldn't keep an extra amount in the bowl to lick).
Crumb coating. Since I was using fondant, this wasn't a "must," but especially with white frosting, starting with a crumb coat makes the outer frosting look smoother and less muddy.
See? So clean and beautiful.
This rolled fondant recipe is the one I always use. It's super simple, and it tastes good. Well, that's a relative proposition. If you're one of those people who doesn't like things that are super sweet, you probably wouldn't like fondant. But homemade fondant is miles away better than store-bought, which a friend said tastes chemical-y. This stuff doesn't. It's just really sweet.
The good news is that even if you don't like fondant, using it helps seal in the moisture of the cake AND the frosting. You know how some frosting develops a slight "shell" when it's been exposed to the air? A cake covered with fondant won't do that.
Then, also, there is the benefit of having a smooth surface to the cake. You can do that with frosting, if you're super patient and/or talented, though. I mostly do it because it's fun.
Someone asked me if this was a King Cake. I thought of that as I was coloring it, but it also has orange in it, so it's not quite the right palette.
I made 4 colors of fondant, rolled it out, and sliced it with a pizza cutter.
Did this bundle thing.
Psychedelicious.
I really do like the way this turned out. I used the extra fondant in some chocolate chip cookie things, thinking it'd make for a nice color. But instead, it just melted and made the cookies super chewy. That works, too. :)
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Progress
This week, I had my third chiropractic appointment. I'm going to confess something now, if you'll promise not to tell on me.
The first week I went in, when I laid on my stomach (sort of; she has a pregnancy pillow thing that's like a crater for my belly), a dull pain shot down my left leg. It was "dull" in the sense that it was old and worn, but it still hurt like the Dickens. When she worked my lower spine, where the ruptured disc was (is?), it recalled the pain from before, though obviously not as acute as it was a year and a half ago.
When I'd turned to my back and she had me squeeze my knees together with her fist in between them, it was difficult and uncomfortable. I felt weak. I couldn't work up a good squeeze because it hurt.
That first visit, she asked me, "Does that hurt?" And I said, "Nope."
So, yeah. That was a lie.
Same thing the second time I visited. I chalked it up to, "Oh well, it's just always going to be sore. And, besides, delivery is going to be worse if I don't get everything aligned to the most advantageous position."
But then, I went in on Tuesday, and when I laid on my stomach, it didn't really hurt. When she manipulated my spine, there was not the same tenderness. And when she asked me to squeeze, I felt like I was operating under my full strength.
Maybe as my back healed, I still favored one side or another or had my balance weird enough to the point that, while I was avoiding experiencing pain, I hadn't worked out some weirdness. Also, I've been told that my premature swelling might be due to some stagnant fluid left over from that whole thing.
I didn't really think that my back was an issue, pregnancy-wise; I wasn't worried about it. But now it seems like the first thing chiropractic might be doing is sweeping out the cobwebs of that to make way for a completely healthy start.
I'm excited to see what happens over the next two months. I feel great, and I felt great going into chiropractic care... So if, after three visits, I'm already seeing appreciable improvements, then I wonder what seven more treatments will yield.
Domestically, we're in the throes of getting the cats used to the nursery, but trained not to get into the crib. Although they're welcome to lay on the Wampa rug or under the crib in "baby jail," the crib itself is off-limits. Aish jumped in once, and got the message to stay out. Rudy has hopped in a few times, but he's not obsessed. Carol, however, is determined to make the crib her new home.
When we try to remove Carol, she digs her front claws in and tries to pull up the sheet. I had the "brilliant" idea to put the baby gym in the crib, but it turns out that she loves that, too. She especially loves the crinkle-paper features. So we throw her out. Again and again.
Some friends online suggested a mesh crib cover. I looked this morning, and while "crib tents" used to be a "thing," they don't appear to be made anymore, so that existing ones are over $100. And the tie-down mesh covers have really bad reviews.
So we throw Carol out of the crib. (Being careful to palm her front claws first, so she doesn't grab anything with them.)
This morning, I threw her out six times within the span of just over an hour. This is probably good exercise. Sit down, get up. Sit down, get up. The seventh time, though, she hopped out of the crib as soon as I started to stand up. She tried two more times to get cozy in there, but all I had to do those times was to walk in and ask her to get down, and she did. She hasn't gone back in during the past hour.
More progress, right?
It's been very humid and sunny and disgusting the past few days, but I'm thinking that tonight (after a day of more humidity but mostly cloud-cover and some downpours), I might try to ride my bike up to Wheatsville Co-Op to get a couple of things, but mostly to get some exercise.
We have been swimming a few times, and that feels divine. There are free pools all around Austin, but so far we've only gone to Deep Eddy and Lifetime Fitness when they had a homeschool day. We'll go to Barton Springs soon, too. The closest free pool to us is a neighborhood pool with literally no parking. We *could* walk, but it's in a valley and we'd have to ascend a pretty overwhelming hill both ways. It's not so bad on the way there, but once you've cooled down by swimming, it sucks to get all gross on the way home.
Although I've done this, riding my bike home from Deep Eddy. I wish I could get Daphne to do this with me, but I don't think she's ready to make the ride back; it's a little more challenging than our "normal" rides.
This weekend, we had a childbirth class at our birthing center, and it was pretty interesting. Apparently, until I've had contractions every 7-10 minutes for an hour, they're not ready for me to come... unless it goes from 7-10 minutes to 5 minutes pretty consistently and quickly.
She said they try to be very aware of how much information the mom wants, and if I say I don't want to know how "far along" I am, they won't tell me. And they'll stay out of the way unless I need something.
After the baby is born, they don't cut the cord until the placenta is delivered, which is interesting. And as long as there are no concerns, they don't usually perform the newborn check-up for an hour or so.
The instructor said that usually an hour or two after the baby is born, it will go to sleep, and they encourage the mom to shower at that time. Then we can plan on leaving 3-6 hours after the baby is born, as long as there are no complications or worries.
This sounds so much better to me than petitioning after hours and hours in the hospital ti finally be "allowed" to go home.
Today I'm starting my 30th week, which means we're pretty much 3/4 of the way there. Two and a half months to go! And I'm not rushing it... I don't know whether it's the weather or the chiropractic adjustments or what, but I'm sleeping like a rock for 8-10 hours per night. I'm enjoying it *so* much and trying not to take it for granted. I know I only have 10 weeks, max, to revel in the sleep before everything gets bonkers.
The first week I went in, when I laid on my stomach (sort of; she has a pregnancy pillow thing that's like a crater for my belly), a dull pain shot down my left leg. It was "dull" in the sense that it was old and worn, but it still hurt like the Dickens. When she worked my lower spine, where the ruptured disc was (is?), it recalled the pain from before, though obviously not as acute as it was a year and a half ago.
When I'd turned to my back and she had me squeeze my knees together with her fist in between them, it was difficult and uncomfortable. I felt weak. I couldn't work up a good squeeze because it hurt.
That first visit, she asked me, "Does that hurt?" And I said, "Nope."
So, yeah. That was a lie.
Same thing the second time I visited. I chalked it up to, "Oh well, it's just always going to be sore. And, besides, delivery is going to be worse if I don't get everything aligned to the most advantageous position."
But then, I went in on Tuesday, and when I laid on my stomach, it didn't really hurt. When she manipulated my spine, there was not the same tenderness. And when she asked me to squeeze, I felt like I was operating under my full strength.
Maybe as my back healed, I still favored one side or another or had my balance weird enough to the point that, while I was avoiding experiencing pain, I hadn't worked out some weirdness. Also, I've been told that my premature swelling might be due to some stagnant fluid left over from that whole thing.
I didn't really think that my back was an issue, pregnancy-wise; I wasn't worried about it. But now it seems like the first thing chiropractic might be doing is sweeping out the cobwebs of that to make way for a completely healthy start.
I'm excited to see what happens over the next two months. I feel great, and I felt great going into chiropractic care... So if, after three visits, I'm already seeing appreciable improvements, then I wonder what seven more treatments will yield.
Domestically, we're in the throes of getting the cats used to the nursery, but trained not to get into the crib. Although they're welcome to lay on the Wampa rug or under the crib in "baby jail," the crib itself is off-limits. Aish jumped in once, and got the message to stay out. Rudy has hopped in a few times, but he's not obsessed. Carol, however, is determined to make the crib her new home.
When we try to remove Carol, she digs her front claws in and tries to pull up the sheet. I had the "brilliant" idea to put the baby gym in the crib, but it turns out that she loves that, too. She especially loves the crinkle-paper features. So we throw her out. Again and again.
Some friends online suggested a mesh crib cover. I looked this morning, and while "crib tents" used to be a "thing," they don't appear to be made anymore, so that existing ones are over $100. And the tie-down mesh covers have really bad reviews.
So we throw Carol out of the crib. (Being careful to palm her front claws first, so she doesn't grab anything with them.)
This morning, I threw her out six times within the span of just over an hour. This is probably good exercise. Sit down, get up. Sit down, get up. The seventh time, though, she hopped out of the crib as soon as I started to stand up. She tried two more times to get cozy in there, but all I had to do those times was to walk in and ask her to get down, and she did. She hasn't gone back in during the past hour.
More progress, right?
It's been very humid and sunny and disgusting the past few days, but I'm thinking that tonight (after a day of more humidity but mostly cloud-cover and some downpours), I might try to ride my bike up to Wheatsville Co-Op to get a couple of things, but mostly to get some exercise.
We have been swimming a few times, and that feels divine. There are free pools all around Austin, but so far we've only gone to Deep Eddy and Lifetime Fitness when they had a homeschool day. We'll go to Barton Springs soon, too. The closest free pool to us is a neighborhood pool with literally no parking. We *could* walk, but it's in a valley and we'd have to ascend a pretty overwhelming hill both ways. It's not so bad on the way there, but once you've cooled down by swimming, it sucks to get all gross on the way home.
Although I've done this, riding my bike home from Deep Eddy. I wish I could get Daphne to do this with me, but I don't think she's ready to make the ride back; it's a little more challenging than our "normal" rides.
This weekend, we had a childbirth class at our birthing center, and it was pretty interesting. Apparently, until I've had contractions every 7-10 minutes for an hour, they're not ready for me to come... unless it goes from 7-10 minutes to 5 minutes pretty consistently and quickly.
She said they try to be very aware of how much information the mom wants, and if I say I don't want to know how "far along" I am, they won't tell me. And they'll stay out of the way unless I need something.
After the baby is born, they don't cut the cord until the placenta is delivered, which is interesting. And as long as there are no concerns, they don't usually perform the newborn check-up for an hour or so.
The instructor said that usually an hour or two after the baby is born, it will go to sleep, and they encourage the mom to shower at that time. Then we can plan on leaving 3-6 hours after the baby is born, as long as there are no complications or worries.
This sounds so much better to me than petitioning after hours and hours in the hospital ti finally be "allowed" to go home.
Today I'm starting my 30th week, which means we're pretty much 3/4 of the way there. Two and a half months to go! And I'm not rushing it... I don't know whether it's the weather or the chiropractic adjustments or what, but I'm sleeping like a rock for 8-10 hours per night. I'm enjoying it *so* much and trying not to take it for granted. I know I only have 10 weeks, max, to revel in the sleep before everything gets bonkers.
Sunday, June 22, 2014
After the Fact (a sort of follow-up to my last post)
As I mentioned last time, I had some pretty intense postpartum depression after Daphne was born. What I'm about to talk about, the ideas I had after the fact and the plans I have this time around, likely would not and will not avoid an incidence of the mood disorder. I just noticed some things that I could have handled better the first time around.
Over the years, people have mentioned to me my "strength." I don't know what that means, but in practice, it apparently means that people assume I am very tough, very brave, and can handle a lot on my own. Which is true, to an extent, but after Daphne was born, I was terribly lonely.
I didn't aspire to my office job I had before she was born, but the fact was that for five years of my life, I'd been around a peer group for 40 hours a week. I was happy to be home, but I had no social contacts at all. I had incorrectly assumed that after you have a baby, all of your people - friends, acquaintances, former co-workers, people from church - show up at your house, dropping in and maybe sometimes even being super pesky. Gosh, there are so many, "If you come visit me after the baby's born, here's how to do it right..." lists online, it seems like this is an epidemic.
Perhaps, in the same way I apparently put out the "don't you dare touch my belly" vibe that successfully repels all but the most intentionally obnoxious people (yes, I'm talking about you, Jennifer and Sarah), I also accidentally put out the "we just want to be alone" vibe... which was definitely not the case.
After Daphne was born, no one who was not related to me came to my house. Literally no one. I felt isolated and lost. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing or feeling, and I was unprepared for the deep sadness (wasn't this what the last months had been expectantly leading up to?) and loneliness (there's literally always a little person *right here* every moment of the day... and night!) I experienced.
Daphne's dad was out of his element, too; a first-time parent, he had no idea how to support me and was probably just trying his best to get used to his new role. When, about a week in, he walked in on my crying over Daphne, who'd just started her first bout with hiccups, his response was, "You have to pull yourself together."
Note for new dads: This is not an effective cheering strategy.
The bright spots in my days were when my pregnant sister and her almost-two-year-old daughter visited, when I got out among people in the "real world" (as opposed to my black hole of a home where all I could feel was sleep deprivation and hopelessness), and when my not-too-close friend Janice would call and share the dark thoughts she had after the birth of her only child. These were the times when I felt "normal."
Now, of course, I realize that I could have called people and asked them to come over. They would have. But I was new at the whole thing, and I wasn't used to asking for care for myself. I wasn't "strong." I was inexperienced and stupid.
I realize that part of this is that I don't have a wide circle of close friends in real life. I worry that I come across as standoffish or preoccupied, when I'm actually just socially awkward. I suck at small talk, and I do find it exhausting getting to know new people through most of the layers and walls we put up early into relationships. In fact, this weekend, I found a video that pretty much explains how I feel in most social situations:
I understand, too, that some people really want to be home for a week or three or six with "just" their core family, both to bond and to avoid germs. This is totally not me. Today, at our birthing class, the instructor mentioned that they prefer mothers to stay in bed (basically, allowing for showers and some walking around for circulation) for three days... and this sounds like a nightmare. Daphne was born at around 2 AM on a Friday; I went to church Saturday night and out to dinner on Sunday evening. And, again, those were the better moments of those first days home.
So, if you're in Austin, be prepared for me to call or text or Facebook message you and ask you to come over for an hour or so, just to see the baby and chat for a while. I will need it. And I'm old enough and wise enough now to know to ask for help. If you definitely want to be on the "call list," email me and I'll be sure to add your name with a big old star beside it.
Over the years, people have mentioned to me my "strength." I don't know what that means, but in practice, it apparently means that people assume I am very tough, very brave, and can handle a lot on my own. Which is true, to an extent, but after Daphne was born, I was terribly lonely.
I didn't aspire to my office job I had before she was born, but the fact was that for five years of my life, I'd been around a peer group for 40 hours a week. I was happy to be home, but I had no social contacts at all. I had incorrectly assumed that after you have a baby, all of your people - friends, acquaintances, former co-workers, people from church - show up at your house, dropping in and maybe sometimes even being super pesky. Gosh, there are so many, "If you come visit me after the baby's born, here's how to do it right..." lists online, it seems like this is an epidemic.
Perhaps, in the same way I apparently put out the "don't you dare touch my belly" vibe that successfully repels all but the most intentionally obnoxious people (yes, I'm talking about you, Jennifer and Sarah), I also accidentally put out the "we just want to be alone" vibe... which was definitely not the case.
After Daphne was born, no one who was not related to me came to my house. Literally no one. I felt isolated and lost. I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing or feeling, and I was unprepared for the deep sadness (wasn't this what the last months had been expectantly leading up to?) and loneliness (there's literally always a little person *right here* every moment of the day... and night!) I experienced.
Daphne's dad was out of his element, too; a first-time parent, he had no idea how to support me and was probably just trying his best to get used to his new role. When, about a week in, he walked in on my crying over Daphne, who'd just started her first bout with hiccups, his response was, "You have to pull yourself together."
Note for new dads: This is not an effective cheering strategy.
The bright spots in my days were when my pregnant sister and her almost-two-year-old daughter visited, when I got out among people in the "real world" (as opposed to my black hole of a home where all I could feel was sleep deprivation and hopelessness), and when my not-too-close friend Janice would call and share the dark thoughts she had after the birth of her only child. These were the times when I felt "normal."
Now, of course, I realize that I could have called people and asked them to come over. They would have. But I was new at the whole thing, and I wasn't used to asking for care for myself. I wasn't "strong." I was inexperienced and stupid.
I realize that part of this is that I don't have a wide circle of close friends in real life. I worry that I come across as standoffish or preoccupied, when I'm actually just socially awkward. I suck at small talk, and I do find it exhausting getting to know new people through most of the layers and walls we put up early into relationships. In fact, this weekend, I found a video that pretty much explains how I feel in most social situations:
I understand, too, that some people really want to be home for a week or three or six with "just" their core family, both to bond and to avoid germs. This is totally not me. Today, at our birthing class, the instructor mentioned that they prefer mothers to stay in bed (basically, allowing for showers and some walking around for circulation) for three days... and this sounds like a nightmare. Daphne was born at around 2 AM on a Friday; I went to church Saturday night and out to dinner on Sunday evening. And, again, those were the better moments of those first days home.
So, if you're in Austin, be prepared for me to call or text or Facebook message you and ask you to come over for an hour or so, just to see the baby and chat for a while. I will need it. And I'm old enough and wise enough now to know to ask for help. If you definitely want to be on the "call list," email me and I'll be sure to add your name with a big old star beside it.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
That Voodoo That You Do
If you've known me for a while, or have watched my pregnancy vlogs, you know that the reason I'm seeing a midwife instead of a medical doctor is that I did not enjoy all of the medical-procedure-y things that happened when I was expecting Daphne (attempted referral to a neurologist instead of a chiropractor, constant self-advocacy against professional after professional who kept telling me we'd "have to" do certain things because she was my first, not allowing me to leave the hospital when I was stressed to the max by the unexpected roommate situation and just wanted to be in the privacy of my own home, etc.).
I love the whole "we'll keep an eye on things, but unless something is overtly wrong, we're just going to let your body do what it's designed to do" mentality.
That said, there have been times I've either tried their suggestions and then jettisoned them for my own reasons, or have just done what they said despite my skepticism because it wasn't that big of a deal just to do it.
For instance, for the first 16 weeks of my pregnancy (after I realized I was pregnant and had gone to see the midwife), I applied progesterone cream topically every day. Although the jury is still out as to whether this actually prevents miscarriages due to low progesterone, I did this because I figured it couldn't hurt. Progesterone levels are supposed to return to "normal" 10 days to three weeks after a miscarriage. The day after I started bleeding last year, my progesterone levels were already at a non-pregnant level... So clearly, I'd had very low progesterone with that pregnancy, and this time, my numbers were higher but still on the low end.
Did it help? I don't know. Didn't hurt. Didn't cost too much, and didn't take much time or effort, so why not?
Another thing they recommended to help with my hormone levels was tincture of wild yam extract. First of all, apparently some progesterone-boosting creams are made with wild yam and not actual progesterone; it seems to be widely panned that those don't help. Mine actually had progesterone in it (and, no, I have no idea what kind of animal supplied it or how they got it). But apparently wild yam might cause your body to produce more progesterone.
I tried to do this. I really did. For one week, I put a dropper full of the tincture into a big old glass of water and choked it down. When that proved too disgusting to take, I just put it into a double shot glass and slammed it back, followed by a chaser. I. couldn't. do. it. It was so foul, I gagged and dreaded it and just... couldn't. The evidence of efficacy didn't seem strong enough for me to keep at it, so I stopped.
Most recently, I've been having issues with searing heartburn. The midwife recommended raw almonds (yuck) or almond milk (on it!) to help with that. Easy enough.
But when I mentioned that I was eating a lot of ice, and I guessed it's mostly because my body is craving water, which I usually hate, and ice is one way to get it, she mentioned that I might be lacking some trace minerals. There is a lot on this here internet about pica (non-food cravings) during pregnancy. Don't worry; I'm not eating dirt or paper or corn starch. But I decided to see if there was something to this by getting some trace mineral drops at Whole Foods ($11.99 for a couple of ounces!).
When I put the recommended "starter" dose (1/4 of a full dose) in my water that night... Oh my gosh, it was the tincture all over again. So bad. So, so revolting. My blood test during the glucose screening did reveal that I'm slightly iron deficient (I'm anemic a lot in "real" life, so this stands to reason). I guess I'll just concentrate on getting more iron in my diet... because iron pills are another thing I can't/won't do. The pills themselves are mehh, but the side effects. Nooooooo.
Now, I promise you that I'm getting somewhere with all of this. It's quite revelatory, and I'm actually pretty horrified about the whole thing. So I might be stalling.
One more stall.
Acupuncture.
When my back was hurting so much, I spent (and, thankfully, was reimbursed) a TON of money on acupuncture. It's about 6 times as expensive as chiropractic. And when they'd tell me why what they were doing worked, it sounded made up. It sounded completely ridiculous and crazy. It made no sense on any logical level, and I'm not 100% sure to this day that I buy the "why." But I can tell you that it worked. It didn't fix the problem, which was really only fixable by time and/or surgery. It DID, however, alleviate the pain immediately and for some time after.
At that point, I honestly didn't care why it worked. I didn't need to understand. It helped, and I needed help.
Which brings me to where we are today.
Last month, I found out a week after the class that my midwifery had hosted a placentophagy class. I wished I'd known about it, because I probably would have gone... Not because I am interested in actually eating my own placenta, but because I am interested in people who are interested in that kind of thing. I didn't care to see the afterbirth from when Daphne was born. It had served its purpose, I had my baby, and I was done with all of that. I am at a loss as to why people make placenta prints (look it up if you want; it's not for the squeamish) and cannot believe that there are e-cookbooks on Amazon that feature recipes for preparation of this organ in things like tacos and smoothies.
Thank you, but no.
I'd told James that if I lived in a nutritional desert, I'd probably be more open to the idea, but I'm not nutritionally at-risk. I can go one mile north to Wheatsville Co-Op or one mile south to Whole Foods and there are all sorts of healthy and delicious options for boosting my vitamins and minerals.
So, again, no thanks.
And then I read a little blip about its possibly holding off some postpartum depression (PPD). There is no scientific study to back this up. The ideas that made the most sense of it to me were this...
+++++++
Many new mothers feel depressed for weeks after giving birth. Physicians have vaguely attributed this malaise to exhaustion and to the demands of motherhood. But a group of researchers at the National Institutes of Health has found evidence for a more specific cause of postpartum blues. New mothers, the researchers say, have lower than normal levels of a stress-fighting hormone that earlier studies have found helps combat depression.
When we are under stress, a part of the brain called the hypothalamus secretes corticotropin-releasing hormone, or CRH. Its secretion triggers a cascade of hormones that ultimately increases the amount of another hormone - called cortisol - in the blood. Cortisol raises blood sugar levels and maintains normal blood pressure, which helps us perform well under stress. Normally the amount of cortisol in the bloodstream is directly related to the amount of CRH released from the hypothalamus. That's not the case in pregnant women.
During the last trimester of pregnancy, the placenta secretes a lot of CRH. The rise is so dramatic that CRH levels in the maternal bloodstream increase threefold. "We can only speculate," says George Chrousos, the endocrinologist who led the NIH study, "but we think it helps women go through the stress of pregnancy, labor, and delivery."
But what happens after birth, when the placenta is gone? Chrousos and his colleagues monitored CRH levels in 17 women from the last trimester to a year after they gave birth. All the women had low levels of CRH - as low as seen in some forms of depression - in the six weeks following birth. The seven women with the lowest levels felt depressed.
Chrousos suspects that CRH levels are temporarily low in new mothers because CRH from the placenta disrupts the feedback system that regulates normal production of the hormone. During pregnancy, when CRH levels are high in the bloodstream, the hypothalamus releases less CRH. After birth, however, when this supplementary source of CRH is gone, it takes a while for the hypothalamus to get the signal that it needs to start making more CRH.
"This finding gives reassurance to people that postpartum depression is a transient phenomenon," says Chrousos. "It also suggests that there is a biological cause."
COPYRIGHT 1995 Discover
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
... and this...
Both iron deficiency and fatigue can impact the development of Postpartum Depression (PPD) by creating a vicious cycle of ailments that Placentophagy could help with, or help to avoid. The vicious cycle begins with iron deficiency being prevalent in women of childbearing age. World estimates state >50% of this population are affected. Having iron deficiency results in many symptoms, some of which are: an impaired ability to concentrate, impaired physical work capacity, depressive symptoms, and fatigue. These symptoms are often overlooked or misdiagnosed due to postpartum women dealing with the lifestyle changes of having a new baby in the house and attributing these symptoms to these changes.
Unfortunately overlooking or ignoring symptoms of iron deficiency, such as fatigue, and not providing proper treatment can lead to the next step in the cycle of PPD development. Research has shown that early postpartum fatigue plays a significant role in PPD. This fatigue adds to the stress of raising a newborn and adjusting to the changes taking place and can hinder a woman from reaching her maximum potential within her role as a mother.
Early screening and treatment of both iron deficiency and fatigue is necessary to reduce the chance of PPD developing, especially since women with PPD respond best when treatment is received at early onset. Placentophagy can be part of this early treatment and help postpartum women avoid both iron deficiency, the fatigue that often accompanies it, and PPD. Several health findings have shown that PPD does respond to iron supplementation and placentas contain iron that can aid in replenishing a postpartum woman's iron levels. A woman's placenta, when ingested, can help stop the the vicious cycle that so many women endure after having a baby.
+++++++
The PPD I experienced with Daphne was horrific. If I knew then what I know now, I would have sought medical treatment for it. If it happens again this time, I certainly will. One bit of good news: I came across an article on PPD the other day, and it listed some risk factors. Whereas I hit on about 6 of the 9 things they mentioned as possible predictors when I was expecting Daphne (including loss of job and financial insecurities, among other things), the only one I have now is that I've had PPD as well as minor depression in the past. So that's some good news.
One of the interns at the birthing center is a doula and also has her own placenta encapsulating service. This means she takes a placenta, dehydrates it, grinds it, and returns it in pill form to the mother. There is an herbal mix added, as well, and the choices are mood boost, milk boost, and iron boost.
So... in order to take any route to avoid the absolute mess of a person I was in the weeks after Daphne's birth, am I willing to pay $200 to try this iffy and pretty vile-sounding thing?
It turns out that I am.
It might be that I never have PPD with this kid, and it's just a matter of my being older and wiser and more settled. And if that happens, I'll never swear by the pills, just as I can't swear by the progesterone cream saving this baby's life in utero. But apparently I'm desperate enough to try anything that might help.
Within reason.
I still don't think I could bring that puppy home with me, prepare it, and ingest it as a meat. I can't even eat beef or chicken liver. Organ meat is just foul to me, even though liver would be one good way to replenish my low iron.
But I can swallow a pill.
We'll see how it goes.
I need to blog also about the postpartum stuff, and one thing that I think contributed to it (answer: loneliness, but I'll expound, so stay tuned...).
I love the whole "we'll keep an eye on things, but unless something is overtly wrong, we're just going to let your body do what it's designed to do" mentality.
That said, there have been times I've either tried their suggestions and then jettisoned them for my own reasons, or have just done what they said despite my skepticism because it wasn't that big of a deal just to do it.
For instance, for the first 16 weeks of my pregnancy (after I realized I was pregnant and had gone to see the midwife), I applied progesterone cream topically every day. Although the jury is still out as to whether this actually prevents miscarriages due to low progesterone, I did this because I figured it couldn't hurt. Progesterone levels are supposed to return to "normal" 10 days to three weeks after a miscarriage. The day after I started bleeding last year, my progesterone levels were already at a non-pregnant level... So clearly, I'd had very low progesterone with that pregnancy, and this time, my numbers were higher but still on the low end.
Did it help? I don't know. Didn't hurt. Didn't cost too much, and didn't take much time or effort, so why not?
Another thing they recommended to help with my hormone levels was tincture of wild yam extract. First of all, apparently some progesterone-boosting creams are made with wild yam and not actual progesterone; it seems to be widely panned that those don't help. Mine actually had progesterone in it (and, no, I have no idea what kind of animal supplied it or how they got it). But apparently wild yam might cause your body to produce more progesterone.
I tried to do this. I really did. For one week, I put a dropper full of the tincture into a big old glass of water and choked it down. When that proved too disgusting to take, I just put it into a double shot glass and slammed it back, followed by a chaser. I. couldn't. do. it. It was so foul, I gagged and dreaded it and just... couldn't. The evidence of efficacy didn't seem strong enough for me to keep at it, so I stopped.
Most recently, I've been having issues with searing heartburn. The midwife recommended raw almonds (yuck) or almond milk (on it!) to help with that. Easy enough.
But when I mentioned that I was eating a lot of ice, and I guessed it's mostly because my body is craving water, which I usually hate, and ice is one way to get it, she mentioned that I might be lacking some trace minerals. There is a lot on this here internet about pica (non-food cravings) during pregnancy. Don't worry; I'm not eating dirt or paper or corn starch. But I decided to see if there was something to this by getting some trace mineral drops at Whole Foods ($11.99 for a couple of ounces!).
When I put the recommended "starter" dose (1/4 of a full dose) in my water that night... Oh my gosh, it was the tincture all over again. So bad. So, so revolting. My blood test during the glucose screening did reveal that I'm slightly iron deficient (I'm anemic a lot in "real" life, so this stands to reason). I guess I'll just concentrate on getting more iron in my diet... because iron pills are another thing I can't/won't do. The pills themselves are mehh, but the side effects. Nooooooo.
Now, I promise you that I'm getting somewhere with all of this. It's quite revelatory, and I'm actually pretty horrified about the whole thing. So I might be stalling.
One more stall.
Acupuncture.
When my back was hurting so much, I spent (and, thankfully, was reimbursed) a TON of money on acupuncture. It's about 6 times as expensive as chiropractic. And when they'd tell me why what they were doing worked, it sounded made up. It sounded completely ridiculous and crazy. It made no sense on any logical level, and I'm not 100% sure to this day that I buy the "why." But I can tell you that it worked. It didn't fix the problem, which was really only fixable by time and/or surgery. It DID, however, alleviate the pain immediately and for some time after.
At that point, I honestly didn't care why it worked. I didn't need to understand. It helped, and I needed help.
Which brings me to where we are today.
Last month, I found out a week after the class that my midwifery had hosted a placentophagy class. I wished I'd known about it, because I probably would have gone... Not because I am interested in actually eating my own placenta, but because I am interested in people who are interested in that kind of thing. I didn't care to see the afterbirth from when Daphne was born. It had served its purpose, I had my baby, and I was done with all of that. I am at a loss as to why people make placenta prints (look it up if you want; it's not for the squeamish) and cannot believe that there are e-cookbooks on Amazon that feature recipes for preparation of this organ in things like tacos and smoothies.
Thank you, but no.
I'd told James that if I lived in a nutritional desert, I'd probably be more open to the idea, but I'm not nutritionally at-risk. I can go one mile north to Wheatsville Co-Op or one mile south to Whole Foods and there are all sorts of healthy and delicious options for boosting my vitamins and minerals.
So, again, no thanks.
And then I read a little blip about its possibly holding off some postpartum depression (PPD). There is no scientific study to back this up. The ideas that made the most sense of it to me were this...
+++++++
Many new mothers feel depressed for weeks after giving birth. Physicians have vaguely attributed this malaise to exhaustion and to the demands of motherhood. But a group of researchers at the National Institutes of Health has found evidence for a more specific cause of postpartum blues. New mothers, the researchers say, have lower than normal levels of a stress-fighting hormone that earlier studies have found helps combat depression.
When we are under stress, a part of the brain called the hypothalamus secretes corticotropin-releasing hormone, or CRH. Its secretion triggers a cascade of hormones that ultimately increases the amount of another hormone - called cortisol - in the blood. Cortisol raises blood sugar levels and maintains normal blood pressure, which helps us perform well under stress. Normally the amount of cortisol in the bloodstream is directly related to the amount of CRH released from the hypothalamus. That's not the case in pregnant women.
During the last trimester of pregnancy, the placenta secretes a lot of CRH. The rise is so dramatic that CRH levels in the maternal bloodstream increase threefold. "We can only speculate," says George Chrousos, the endocrinologist who led the NIH study, "but we think it helps women go through the stress of pregnancy, labor, and delivery."
But what happens after birth, when the placenta is gone? Chrousos and his colleagues monitored CRH levels in 17 women from the last trimester to a year after they gave birth. All the women had low levels of CRH - as low as seen in some forms of depression - in the six weeks following birth. The seven women with the lowest levels felt depressed.
Chrousos suspects that CRH levels are temporarily low in new mothers because CRH from the placenta disrupts the feedback system that regulates normal production of the hormone. During pregnancy, when CRH levels are high in the bloodstream, the hypothalamus releases less CRH. After birth, however, when this supplementary source of CRH is gone, it takes a while for the hypothalamus to get the signal that it needs to start making more CRH.
"This finding gives reassurance to people that postpartum depression is a transient phenomenon," says Chrousos. "It also suggests that there is a biological cause."
COPYRIGHT 1995 Discover
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group
... and this...
Both iron deficiency and fatigue can impact the development of Postpartum Depression (PPD) by creating a vicious cycle of ailments that Placentophagy could help with, or help to avoid. The vicious cycle begins with iron deficiency being prevalent in women of childbearing age. World estimates state >50% of this population are affected. Having iron deficiency results in many symptoms, some of which are: an impaired ability to concentrate, impaired physical work capacity, depressive symptoms, and fatigue. These symptoms are often overlooked or misdiagnosed due to postpartum women dealing with the lifestyle changes of having a new baby in the house and attributing these symptoms to these changes.
Unfortunately overlooking or ignoring symptoms of iron deficiency, such as fatigue, and not providing proper treatment can lead to the next step in the cycle of PPD development. Research has shown that early postpartum fatigue plays a significant role in PPD. This fatigue adds to the stress of raising a newborn and adjusting to the changes taking place and can hinder a woman from reaching her maximum potential within her role as a mother.
Early screening and treatment of both iron deficiency and fatigue is necessary to reduce the chance of PPD developing, especially since women with PPD respond best when treatment is received at early onset. Placentophagy can be part of this early treatment and help postpartum women avoid both iron deficiency, the fatigue that often accompanies it, and PPD. Several health findings have shown that PPD does respond to iron supplementation and placentas contain iron that can aid in replenishing a postpartum woman's iron levels. A woman's placenta, when ingested, can help stop the the vicious cycle that so many women endure after having a baby.
+++++++
The PPD I experienced with Daphne was horrific. If I knew then what I know now, I would have sought medical treatment for it. If it happens again this time, I certainly will. One bit of good news: I came across an article on PPD the other day, and it listed some risk factors. Whereas I hit on about 6 of the 9 things they mentioned as possible predictors when I was expecting Daphne (including loss of job and financial insecurities, among other things), the only one I have now is that I've had PPD as well as minor depression in the past. So that's some good news.
One of the interns at the birthing center is a doula and also has her own placenta encapsulating service. This means she takes a placenta, dehydrates it, grinds it, and returns it in pill form to the mother. There is an herbal mix added, as well, and the choices are mood boost, milk boost, and iron boost.
So... in order to take any route to avoid the absolute mess of a person I was in the weeks after Daphne's birth, am I willing to pay $200 to try this iffy and pretty vile-sounding thing?
It turns out that I am.
It might be that I never have PPD with this kid, and it's just a matter of my being older and wiser and more settled. And if that happens, I'll never swear by the pills, just as I can't swear by the progesterone cream saving this baby's life in utero. But apparently I'm desperate enough to try anything that might help.
Within reason.
I still don't think I could bring that puppy home with me, prepare it, and ingest it as a meat. I can't even eat beef or chicken liver. Organ meat is just foul to me, even though liver would be one good way to replenish my low iron.
But I can swallow a pill.
We'll see how it goes.
I need to blog also about the postpartum stuff, and one thing that I think contributed to it (answer: loneliness, but I'll expound, so stay tuned...).
Small Unschooling Victory?
Shortly after James and I started dating, he bought Daphne the Super Scratch Programming Adventure. She did about 2/3 of the book, got through the tedious stuff, and about the time she hit the place where shew as beginning to do some actual creative programming of her own, she just lost interest. I tried, for a few days, to get her to do several pages at a time; but it was like pulling teeth. Eventually, I just stopped encouraging her to keep pounding away at it and we moved on to other things.
Earlier this week, she said that a friend of hers (online) wanted to teach her C++ (which James assures me is not for beginners) and though she didn't specifically say this person recommended starting with Scratch, she did say she wanted to get back into her old account and start it again.
She was so good at picking up the programming (good enough that James had to check her mistakes, because I couldn't find what was wrong when something didn't work), and it was really tempting to try to force her to finish the book. But I didn't, and now that she wants to do it again, she will. And she's more mature and has more tech skills now, too.
Unschooling doesn't mean un-parenting. I still discipline. I still make Daphne do things she doesn't want to do... but I don't make her pretend to learn things she's not interested in studying, because I feel that, in the long run, she'll only master the subject long enough to jump through the hoops I've put into place, and then forget it all. That seems like wasted time and effort on both of our parts, and I don't like wasting my time.
I continue to look forward to seeing what this kid will produce, with her artistic bent and increasing technical prowess. I don't want to dampen that by force-marching her through the process until she's sick of it and gives up. And so far, that approach seems to be working.
(We've done the same thing with "I bought you a Bamboo drawing pad; why aren't you using it?!" which she picked up again for the first time in over a year this month. So maybe, just maybe, we're getting somewhere. Slowly and surely.)
Earlier this week, she said that a friend of hers (online) wanted to teach her C++ (which James assures me is not for beginners) and though she didn't specifically say this person recommended starting with Scratch, she did say she wanted to get back into her old account and start it again.
She was so good at picking up the programming (good enough that James had to check her mistakes, because I couldn't find what was wrong when something didn't work), and it was really tempting to try to force her to finish the book. But I didn't, and now that she wants to do it again, she will. And she's more mature and has more tech skills now, too.
Unschooling doesn't mean un-parenting. I still discipline. I still make Daphne do things she doesn't want to do... but I don't make her pretend to learn things she's not interested in studying, because I feel that, in the long run, she'll only master the subject long enough to jump through the hoops I've put into place, and then forget it all. That seems like wasted time and effort on both of our parts, and I don't like wasting my time.
I continue to look forward to seeing what this kid will produce, with her artistic bent and increasing technical prowess. I don't want to dampen that by force-marching her through the process until she's sick of it and gives up. And so far, that approach seems to be working.
(We've done the same thing with "I bought you a Bamboo drawing pad; why aren't you using it?!" which she picked up again for the first time in over a year this month. So maybe, just maybe, we're getting somewhere. Slowly and surely.)
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