No News

21 Feb

You know that saying ‘no news is good news’? Well turns out it’s a dirty lie.

I know this because I had a doctor’s appointment today and found out that not much is going on in terms of progress for me. I’m somewhere between 1 and 2 centimeters dilated and about 60% effaced. Just to recap, I was a little under 1 centimeter dilated and 50% effaced at my last appointment a week ago. Sigh.

All last week I could feel the little guy using his head as a battering ram against my cervix (which, btw, feels about as awesome as it sounds), so I was pretty sure I would see a bit more progress, but no dice. And I was planning on having my membranes stripped today but I wasn’t dilated enough. Sad day.

He (my doctor) also told me that I have a “pretty decent sized” little person in me, which, he went on to explain, means that the little monster is probably “only” 8 or 9 lbs. Does that seem gigantic to anyone else? Because I’m thinking it sounds absolutely huge.

On the bright side, I still have a few more days to process.

I’ve been thinking seriously all week about this whole “labor” thing… and also the whole “baby” thing, and it’s a little overwhelming. I mean, I obviously knew what the end result of my adventures through pregnancy was, but I’m feeling seriously, seriously under-qualified to deal with the massive project of raising a human baby into a successful adult.

So even though I feel like I’ve been waiting for years to go into labor, I’m really appreciating the extra time at this very moment.

One thing for sure is that I’m definitely down to days (and not weeks… or months…) because I have an induction scheduled for next week. The plan is that I’m going to go into the hospital for a Fetal Non-Stress Test (remember the last time I had one of those?) and if everything looks good I’ll be induced on Wednesday morning. 6 DAYS! What? I know, crazy.

Having an induction makes me really nervous that I won’t be able to do a natural birth. When labor is induced, doctors use a drug called Pitocin, a synthetic form of the hormone oxytocin which stimulates contractions. With Pitocin, however, contractions come a lot harder and stronger, making them waaay more painful than natural contractions… meaning that it’s much more difficult to deal with the pain. And. When labor is induced the chances of a cesarean increase as well.

I guess what this all boils down to is that I have had a bit of a stressful day trying to wrap my mind around everything. I’m trying to stay positive, but I’m also (kinda) panicking a little. Only 6 more days of pregnancy… going into labor… the possibility of not being able to follow anything in my plan… coming home with a baby… my life changing forever… Yikes. That’s a lot to deal with.

Um, yes. Now that you’re thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind some words of advice… The countdown is on, after all, and I’m feeling the deadline coming up quick…

40 Week Bumpdate

18 Feb
This had better be the last bumpdate I write...

This had better be the last bumpdate I write…

Well, I’ve given the little guy an eviction notice. And considering the fact that my “bump” could be more accurately described as a boulder these days, I’m thinking he’s probably considering his options at this very moment… the clock is ticking, little boy! It’s time to make some decisions!

Things have really changed this week because I have so much more pressure on my pelvis. Walking around has actually gotten pretty painful if I stick to it for too long, not to mention that I need to pee constantly. The fact that I’ve recently been watching Parks & Recreation hasn’t helped that fact either…

Anyway, I made a deal with Michael (back when we were thinking the little guy would come early) that we could get ice cream every day I go over my due date. So yeah, I’m not terribly disappointed to go over 🙂

I’ll keep you all updated when things start moving, and in the meantime I’ll be sampling all 31 flavors at the Baskin Robbins across the street. Have a great week!

Valentine’s Day Fail

16 Feb
Can you appreciate the artistry in this picture? Um, yeah. I'm thinking of becoming a photographer.

Can you appreciate the artistry in this picture? Um, yeah. I’m thinking of becoming a photographer.

When Michael and I were dating, we spent our first Valentine’s Day eating takeout sushi from Happy Sumo in the parking lot of Y mountain. We had been engaged for a few months and were pretty in love with each other, so it was quite a romantic day (as per the fact that I demanded it be so), complete with cards, flowers, presents, music, and musing about our future together.

On our second Valentine’s Day we lived in Wymount Terrace and had been married for almost a year. Because Michael is a financially-minded accountant (and the fact that we were poor college students), we kept the day of love pretty low-key. In addition to being exceptionally frugal, Michael also would never acknowledge Valentine’s Day unless he had a sappy wife (luckily I fill that void in his life), so I planned the day and we ate takeout Happy sumo for a candle-lit picnic in our front room and then watched a chick flick. Such romance.

This year was a little different…

What's more romantic than making flashcards for your husband for Valentine's Day?

I’ve recently become really paranoid that Michael will forget everything he’s learned about labor in the heat of the moment, so I lovingly prepared flashcards for him as a Valentine’s Day present. Thoughtful Vday present, no?

I woke up feeling absolutely terrible because I was having a lot of contractions. At first I thought I might be in labor but after paying closer attention, I realized that the contractions weren’t regular and weren’t getting stronger, so I knew it was just a warm-up. When I went to my doctor’s appointment he told me that I’m a little less than 1 cm dilated and that he was “pretty confident it won’t happen today.”

Honestly, I was okay with that because I think it would be tough to be a boy and have your birthday on the girliest holiday out there. Plus his mom would turn his birthday into a pink and red affair every year… Yeah, I think that worked out for the best 🙂

See? Still there.

See? Still there.

I got home a little later and promptly went back to bed and spent the rest of the day in a painful haze. When Michael got home we went out for Thai food (no sushi when you’re pregnant, much to Michael’s relief) and frozen yogurt and then went to bed early. I feel really bad that I ruined Valentine’s Day, but I honestly wasn’t up to doing too much.

Don’t worry, Michael. I’ll make sure that next year is twice as romantic to make up for it 🙂

In the meantime, I have started to focus on other things. Like this:

The Bryce Canyon Half Marathon! {source}

The Bryce Canyon Half Marathon!
{source}

I registered for this race a few days after Christmas and then promptly forgot about it with all the preparations for Mr. Baby.

But.

The other day I had a dream that Michael and I were doing a triathlon together (I beat him) and since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about getting back in shape.

Michael and I did this half marathon a few years ago and it is seriously such a good time.

How can a course with an elevation chart like this NOT be a good time? I mean really.

How can a course with an elevation chart like this NOT be a good time? I mean really.

I am so excited to do it again! Considering that I need to lose quite a bit of weight leading up to this race, I’m thinking that my chances of PR’ing are pretty remote (I ran it the first time in 1:56:04). If anything, this gives me a goal to work toward. And I’ll be able to spend some quality time with my first love: running. I’m thinking that April 1 will be the official start date of my serious weight loss/training program. Is it the worst idea to start on April Fool’s Day? I guess we’ll see!

I kind of can’t wait 🙂

The Best News Ever :)

13 Feb

Everyone back home in my little town is celebrating right now because a sweet little 9-year-old girl, Lindsey Bingham, got a call last night telling her that a heart had become available! She has been waiting 239 long days on the transplant list and it is so exciting to FINALLY see an end in sight 🙂

Her older sister, Sierra, had a heart transplant a few years ago and it’s pretty likely that a few of this family’s other three children will have to have heart transplants eventually as well. Lindsey’s call about an available heart is an answer to many, many prayers. This family has the most incredible story.

She goes in for surgery at 4:00 pm today, so please say a quick prayer for Lindsey Bingham, her doctors, and her family (ps: if you check out their blog, don’t watch the video from day 238 at 9:45 pm unless you want to cry. Because it will make you cry. At least it will if you’re 39 weeks pregnant…). And say a quick prayer especially for the family that just lost their child and decided to donate his or her heart so that another family wouldn’t have to experience the same tragedy.

Anyway, I just wanted to throw some good news into the world about the girl who is getting a heart for Valentine’s Day 🙂

39 Week Bumpdate

11 Feb
Do I look sick of pregnancy? Because I am sick of pregnancy. So, so sick of pregnancy.

Do I look like I’m sick of being pregnant? Because I am. So, so sick of it. So are my chubby little wedding ringless fingers…

Remember last week when I said that I didn’t think I’d make it to my due date? Well. I’ve officially changed my stance on that. Because I’m pretty sure this little boy is planning to take up permanent residence in my uterus.

Last weekend I was having a lot of contractions, but then they came to a screeching halt and haven’t been heard from since.

Meanwhile, I’ve been ready to go for weeks

Got my hospital bag, diaper bag, car seat, and boppy pillow just waiting to be used.

Got my hospital bag, diaper bag, car seat, and boppy pillow just waiting to be used.

Let’s hope he decides to make an appearance before this time next week because I would much rather post a picture of him than of my ever-growing baby bump (less of a bump these days and more of a boulder).

Why I’m Doing This Thang Naturally

10 Feb
Yes please! {source}

Yes please!
{source}

I’m one of those people who likes to have a full supply of painkillers on hand when I get sick. Nyquil, Tylenol, Afrin, Theraflu (which, btw, is no longer made. Tragedy), pass them my way! Which is why it came as a bit of a shock to some people (Michael, are you reading this?) to find out that I am planning on having a natural birth. After all, if someone hates being in pain, it should naturally follow that this person would opt for an epidural during childbirth, right?

Well, not this girl, turns out.

In all honesty, I’ve wanted to write about this for a few weeks but have struggled with putting the right words to my feelings. I have felt very strongly about going the natural route for awhile now, but I couldn’t quite figure out exactly why it struck such a cord with me. But (yep, get excited for this) I think I figured out my internal struggle.

Here’s the thing: I believe that some pain has a purpose. Sounds nuts (and not just a little eccentric), right? Just wait til I get going…

If you know much about me, you know that I am absolutely in love with running. And not just any running, distance running in particular holds a special place in my heart. To the point of obsession at times, actually… I mean you can’t run marathons without being just a tad bit obsessive, after all.

Anyway, here’s my point: I would never take drugs before going on a run. Even though I know I’ll be in pretty significant pain in an hour (or two, depending on the workout), feeling pain is important because it tells me if I’m doing something wrong. If I’m pushing a little injury too far, if a previous injury flares up, or if a new injury starts to form, it’s important to be aware so I can make adjustments. See what I’m saying? Pain with a purpose. When I get home from said run, I’m all about the Tylenol though, because I don’t see any reason to continue subjecting myself to pain.

I think of childbirth in pretty much the same way.

The human body is pretty freaking awesome. And the female body was made for childbirth (minus the stretch marks… I feel like there’s a flaw somewhere in the plan on that one). If pregnancy has taught me anything, that’s it. Even though I’m fully aware that it will be painful, I think there’s a purpose to the pain. Feeling contractions will allow me to work with my body to deliver my little guy quickly and safely. I don’t like the idea that I’ll have to be told when my contractions are going on, and I really don’t like the thought that I won’t be able to feel how hard I am pushing or should be pushing. Plus, just like with running, I think it’s important to know if I need to make adjustments in order to avoid unnecessary pain once the epidural wears off.

Btw, I don’t think the pain that goes along with the flu or a cold is really that productive. I take more of a “thanks, I’m aware that I’m sick, now stop bothering me” approach to viruses.

Long story short, I really believe that natural childbirth is the best and safest option for me. I have a really hard time with moms/books/professionals who try to impose their beliefs and values on others because each person and circumstance is so different, so don’t think I’m writing this to try and convince you one way or the other. I just wanted to explain to some of you out there (ahem… you know who you are :)) why I’m choosing this route.

Anyway, happy Sunday! Look forward to a bumpdate tomorrow 🙂 For now, I’m off to bed!

And Then I Freaked Out and Went to the Hospital…

8 Feb
Hospital Party

Spending some quality time with the labor and delivery nurses…

Yesterday around 4:00 I realized that I hadn’t felt my little guy move around much throughout the day. It’s weird because it usually feels like he is having a dance party in my tummy at least a few times during the day, but yesterday was a little different.

I tried to poke him a little and wiggle him around, but I still didn’t really feel anything going on. Usually the rule of thumb is that moms should feel their babies moving at least 10 times per 2 hours, but I realized that the last time I could remember feeling him move was the night before.

I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but I mentioned it to my dad while on the phone with him, and he told me I should probably call the hospital just to make sure everything was okay.

After explaining the situation, they told me to come in to get things checked out. Cue minor freakout.

I had to wait about an hour for Michael to get home before we could go, and in the meantime every plausible (and a lot of implausible) scenarios went through my mind. By the time Michael got home I had his entire little funeral planned out in my mind.

When we got to the hospital they performed a Fetal Non-Stress Test (hence the itchy baby-monitoring bands strapped around my exceptionally large belly).

Well wouldn’t you know that about 5 minutes into the test the little guy decides it’s party time and starts wiggling around like a maniac. Like, “Ha, aren’t I so funny? Scared you, mom!” Yep, thanks a lot, kid. Awesome joke.

Even though he started moving right after the test started, I’m glad I went in, because I would have spent the entire night worrying that he had been oxygen-deprived for several hours during the day and had brain damage. Oh yeah, I can come up with all kinds of terrifying scenarios if I really put my mind to it.

It’s funny because I feel like I have spent my entire pregnancy being worried. First I was worried that I would miscarry. Then I worried that he might not be healthy. Then I worried that he wasn’t growing normally. Yesterday I was worried that he had died. I usually have one or two worries floating around in my mind…

My current concerns are that he will either be born with ambiguous genitalia (I saw a documentary about it one time and have been terrified ever since…) or that he’ll be born with the aforementioned brain damage. Or both. It’s really exhausting to sit and worry about these things all day long. I mentioned this to my mom and said that I can’t wait until he’s born because then I can stop worrying about him all the time and she just looked at me with this expression that clearly said, “Oh sweetie, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

It was in that moment that I realized that I will go to my grave worrying about my child(ren).

Am I going crazy, or is this what having a mom’s brain feels like? All of this concern is making me feel not just a little nuts… Help!!