Thursday, April 14, 2011
For the record...
I wore a different outfit the next day, and felt totally different. Much bigger. Though I reckon I'm still on the small side for NEARLY SIX MONTHS! (all caps because I can't believe I'm nearly 6 months along, NOT because I'm so unbelievably petite.)
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Today's Pregnancy Report
Today I am enjoying being pregnant.
My belly feels like a round dome. I wore my black low-band maternity pants (no stretchy panel over the abdomen), and I really do enjoy how they feel. The stretchy band still bugs me a little. And the low cut pants and a new short-sleeve (yay for warm weather, even temporarily) black T-shirt (for some reason, I ended up ordering a lot of black clothes when I thought I ordered a variety of colors) made me looks surprisingly dressed up and even kind of hip, for a pregnant girl. And makes me look not-very-pregnant-at-all for 23+ weeks. Which is sort of nice, considering I feel like I'm pretty prone to weight gain in my not-pregnant state.
Apparently my breasts are quite impressive though! I don't even notice them -- I'm so taken with my growing belly. But I get lots of comments from my closer female friends, along the lines of, "Damn, nice rack!"
My girl is moving lots, and I love it! It doesn't ever wake me, and it never fails to entertain me during quiet moments on the train or at work. I have to focus to not touch my belly when she starts moving and I am supposedly focusing on a patient. (Speaking of which, I was supposed to share funny or touching patient stories on here... shows where my focus is: entirely on me and my pregnancy.)
Last night I didn't wake up to pee until it was nearly time to get out of bed, anyway. And I always fall right back to sleep, so I can't complain about once-nightly trips to the bathroom, anyway. And I'm still sleeping on my stomach, though now I try to aim my stomach to one side or the other a bit. I worry about smushing my girl.
I head to San Francisco and then to Santa Barbara in just two more days. I can't wait! It's been three years, I think, since I was out there. I used to live in San Francisco, and truly, I did leave my heart there. I miss it.
My belly feels like a round dome. I wore my black low-band maternity pants (no stretchy panel over the abdomen), and I really do enjoy how they feel. The stretchy band still bugs me a little. And the low cut pants and a new short-sleeve (yay for warm weather, even temporarily) black T-shirt (for some reason, I ended up ordering a lot of black clothes when I thought I ordered a variety of colors) made me looks surprisingly dressed up and even kind of hip, for a pregnant girl. And makes me look not-very-pregnant-at-all for 23+ weeks. Which is sort of nice, considering I feel like I'm pretty prone to weight gain in my not-pregnant state.
Apparently my breasts are quite impressive though! I don't even notice them -- I'm so taken with my growing belly. But I get lots of comments from my closer female friends, along the lines of, "Damn, nice rack!"
My girl is moving lots, and I love it! It doesn't ever wake me, and it never fails to entertain me during quiet moments on the train or at work. I have to focus to not touch my belly when she starts moving and I am supposedly focusing on a patient. (Speaking of which, I was supposed to share funny or touching patient stories on here... shows where my focus is: entirely on me and my pregnancy.)
Last night I didn't wake up to pee until it was nearly time to get out of bed, anyway. And I always fall right back to sleep, so I can't complain about once-nightly trips to the bathroom, anyway. And I'm still sleeping on my stomach, though now I try to aim my stomach to one side or the other a bit. I worry about smushing my girl.
I head to San Francisco and then to Santa Barbara in just two more days. I can't wait! It's been three years, I think, since I was out there. I used to live in San Francisco, and truly, I did leave my heart there. I miss it.
Twelve Hours by Twelve Weeks
Just a quickie to add... Liz passed along to me a book she used called Twelve Hours by Twelve Weeks.
It teaches parents how to sleep train their children... so yes, you guessed it, they sleep twelve hours at night, by twelve weeks of age, in addition to taking a one hour nap in the morning and a two hour nap in the afternoon.
She also gave me Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child.
So far I like the former a lot more. It's very short, sweet, and to the point. The latter is extremely complex, throws around a lot of confusing percentages ("of the 49% of partially fussy children, 37% are not fussy, 51% are medium fussy, and 11% are fussy, compared to the 11% of fussy children, 51% are not that fussy....") and has a lot of complex instructions ("if you are a method A parent, using extinction, and your child is one of the 37% of not fussy children in the 51% of medium fussy children, and your child is between 3-5 months of age, use this technique.") I get it that probably one method doesn't work for all children or all children, but Jeez Aleez.
So whether or not this Twelve Hours by Twelve Weeks could work for me is a different issue. It goes against everything I've ever learned. The author says you should have your child eating every four hours by twelve weeks of age, certainly not on demand or even every three hours. (Though Liz has a friend who has successfully breastfed her child more frequently and still achieved the twelve hour night.)
This sounds impossible, right? But Liz said it took only a couple of days to get her little daughter on this schedule of eating every four hours (daytime only)... and only a couple of days and very little crying to get her to sleep through the night. To eliminate nighttime feedings, you reduce the volume of the feeding (or duration, if breastfeeding) every three days.
Anyway, I would never have believed that this could work... if not for the fact that Liz successfully instituted this (and she knew several people that had successfully done it with her, especially since this author is also from DC). And the fact that her daughter seemed to be smiling every awake minute that I was there, and never cried, and went quickly and easily to sleep... well, I'm intrigued.
I'd love to hear if anyone out there has heard of this book, and knows anyone that has tried it, with either positive or negative experiences.
And here's a link if anyone is interested in checking it out.
http://www.amazon.com/Teaching-Babies-Sleep-Hours-Weeks/dp/0976899108/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1302611835&sr=1-3-catcorr
It teaches parents how to sleep train their children... so yes, you guessed it, they sleep twelve hours at night, by twelve weeks of age, in addition to taking a one hour nap in the morning and a two hour nap in the afternoon.
She also gave me Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child.
So far I like the former a lot more. It's very short, sweet, and to the point. The latter is extremely complex, throws around a lot of confusing percentages ("of the 49% of partially fussy children, 37% are not fussy, 51% are medium fussy, and 11% are fussy, compared to the 11% of fussy children, 51% are not that fussy....") and has a lot of complex instructions ("if you are a method A parent, using extinction, and your child is one of the 37% of not fussy children in the 51% of medium fussy children, and your child is between 3-5 months of age, use this technique.") I get it that probably one method doesn't work for all children or all children, but Jeez Aleez.
So whether or not this Twelve Hours by Twelve Weeks could work for me is a different issue. It goes against everything I've ever learned. The author says you should have your child eating every four hours by twelve weeks of age, certainly not on demand or even every three hours. (Though Liz has a friend who has successfully breastfed her child more frequently and still achieved the twelve hour night.)
This sounds impossible, right? But Liz said it took only a couple of days to get her little daughter on this schedule of eating every four hours (daytime only)... and only a couple of days and very little crying to get her to sleep through the night. To eliminate nighttime feedings, you reduce the volume of the feeding (or duration, if breastfeeding) every three days.
Anyway, I would never have believed that this could work... if not for the fact that Liz successfully instituted this (and she knew several people that had successfully done it with her, especially since this author is also from DC). And the fact that her daughter seemed to be smiling every awake minute that I was there, and never cried, and went quickly and easily to sleep... well, I'm intrigued.
I'd love to hear if anyone out there has heard of this book, and knows anyone that has tried it, with either positive or negative experiences.
And here's a link if anyone is interested in checking it out.
http://www.amazon.com/Teaching-Babies-Sleep-Hours-Weeks/dp/0976899108/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1302611835&sr=1-3-catcorr
23 weeks (and down to the hundred teens on the Babycounter!)
Baby Lentil (aka Lentila) and I are entering the viability zone! It's astounding to me. I don't feel pregnant enough at all to entertain the thought of a baby on the outside. Of course, she would be barely, only possible viable... I don't like to think about it, really, but it's cool to think she's that big that it's possible. While still keeping her securely inside. (She's now 11 inches long and just over a pound, according to Babycenter.) I think I will be in double digits on the Babycounter when I return from my spring break trip to CA!
Today, while walking briskly a few blocks, I had a Braxton Hicks contraction. I've had a couple before, but this was the first time I had one with activity -- it made me wonder if I needed to slow down? The thing was, it felt so good to walk briskly and stretch out my legs. I need to do more of this, not less. It was hard to slow down.
I spent the weekend in DC with my wonderful friend Liz and her husband and six month old daughter. Liz and I went to the summer camp as children, though I was older -- I was only peripherally aware of her existence, and she, apparently, looked up to me and thought I was cool! How funny. Then, later, we were matched to become co-counselors of the same cabin of twelve year old girls... and thus experienced possibly the most blissful summer of my life. Ever since then, I've just adored her. What an amazing person she is.
And now she has an amazing husband and baby. I'm not envious at all, just so glad for her that she found someone that fully appreciates how spectacular she is. And now they have a smiling, cooing, never-crying, gorgeous baby girl.
It was great to hear Liz's birth story. When talking about it, her description of the pain is more or less, Ehh. Of course it hurt. But that wasn't the hard part. And I don't have a high pain threshhold, or a hero complex. The hardest part was just the bewilderment, understanding that this thing was going to come out of my vagina."
Basically, she went into labor at 3 am, had contractions every 2-3 minutes for about eight hours before going to the hospital (despite the fact that her conservative OB practice wanted her to come in much sooner)... and found out that she was only two centimeters dilated. Luckily, her fabulous doula was with her, and had warned her ahead of time that she might not have dilated very much, despite Liz feeling very much like she had been in active labor for a long time. Liz was very grateful for this warning. She and her husband headed back home, and her doula went to her own home to cancel the following day's appointments. After a little while at home, labor changed and got more intense, and she wanted to sit on the toilet... and while her husband called the doula to update her, Liz suddenly realized she wanted to, and indeed was, pushing.
The doula shouted, "tell Liz not to push! And get in the car RIGHT NOW and meet me at the hospital!"
Liz got to the hospital (after blowing raspberries the whole time in the car, to keep from pushing) where the nurses took one look at her and threw her in a hospital bed. An hour later, her darling daughter was born.
All this to say... let's remind ourselves not to get discouraged when the going looks rough. And that yes, maybe the pain, and we, really will be okay.
Today, while walking briskly a few blocks, I had a Braxton Hicks contraction. I've had a couple before, but this was the first time I had one with activity -- it made me wonder if I needed to slow down? The thing was, it felt so good to walk briskly and stretch out my legs. I need to do more of this, not less. It was hard to slow down.
I spent the weekend in DC with my wonderful friend Liz and her husband and six month old daughter. Liz and I went to the summer camp as children, though I was older -- I was only peripherally aware of her existence, and she, apparently, looked up to me and thought I was cool! How funny. Then, later, we were matched to become co-counselors of the same cabin of twelve year old girls... and thus experienced possibly the most blissful summer of my life. Ever since then, I've just adored her. What an amazing person she is.
And now she has an amazing husband and baby. I'm not envious at all, just so glad for her that she found someone that fully appreciates how spectacular she is. And now they have a smiling, cooing, never-crying, gorgeous baby girl.
It was great to hear Liz's birth story. When talking about it, her description of the pain is more or less, Ehh. Of course it hurt. But that wasn't the hard part. And I don't have a high pain threshhold, or a hero complex. The hardest part was just the bewilderment, understanding that this thing was going to come out of my vagina."
Basically, she went into labor at 3 am, had contractions every 2-3 minutes for about eight hours before going to the hospital (despite the fact that her conservative OB practice wanted her to come in much sooner)... and found out that she was only two centimeters dilated. Luckily, her fabulous doula was with her, and had warned her ahead of time that she might not have dilated very much, despite Liz feeling very much like she had been in active labor for a long time. Liz was very grateful for this warning. She and her husband headed back home, and her doula went to her own home to cancel the following day's appointments. After a little while at home, labor changed and got more intense, and she wanted to sit on the toilet... and while her husband called the doula to update her, Liz suddenly realized she wanted to, and indeed was, pushing.
The doula shouted, "tell Liz not to push! And get in the car RIGHT NOW and meet me at the hospital!"
Liz got to the hospital (after blowing raspberries the whole time in the car, to keep from pushing) where the nurses took one look at her and threw her in a hospital bed. An hour later, her darling daughter was born.
All this to say... let's remind ourselves not to get discouraged when the going looks rough. And that yes, maybe the pain, and we, really will be okay.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Thoughts on Childbirth
My background with childbirth is a little bit complicated.
Back in high school, I did a biology project on the miracle of human birth. I even showed my classmate a video of live births. Not your typical high school homework. To give me credit, my classmates quickly got over any initial squeamishness and were fascinated.
In college, I decided to do an internship with a local "lay" midwife in Maine (where I went to school). I was able to make it a part of my thesis paper for Women's Studies Senior Seminar. I did loads of research, learning about medical versus midwifery views of childbirth.
I won't bore you with the results. Needless to say, I was very pro-midwife, anti medical establishment. For a while, I even wondered if I might become a midwife myself. But I soon realized that once the baby was born, I lost all interest in the mother. So instead, I find myself in pediatrics. Sadly enough, in a job without warm, cuddly babies. But teenagers are proverbially cuddly too, in their own spiky ways.
After doing even more research during my pregnancy (mostly from the work of Ina Mae Gaskin and Michel Odent... no traditional pregnancy books for me, thank you!)... I truly believe that I can experience childbirth with limited or no pain.
For those of you laughing at me, please do keep it to yourselves. (Asked in the nicest way possible.)
Yes, I certainly believe it can be horribly, terrifyingly painful, too. I know it is for the vast majority of American women. But I don't think it has to be that way.
I believe I can train my brain to work through the contractions, and more importantly, learn to interpret the contractions ("pressure waves") as hard, challenging work. The more I read, the more I believe that the pain women experience in labor stems from one's body fighting the contractions, naturally enough, out of a fear of their intensity. Which makes total sense. But literature that says that if you can learn to not resist the intensity... you can have intense, strong, powerful labors... without excruciating pain.
I have experimented with convincing my body that it wasn't in pain before. For example, the time I tore my foot open (eventually requiring stitches), and quickly got back on my bike and kept riding, telling myself, "it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt" because I knew that if I looked down at my foot, if I focused on the pain, that I would pass out... and passing out on a deserted dirt road just wouldn't do. Likewise, the time I ran 26.2 miles... on three then-undiagnosed stress fractures.
Trust me, I know these don't compare to labor. I get it. But I didn't have any training in this with those experiences, just a belief that I could do it. And I did.
And now I'm planning to do a home-study of Hypnobabies. The CD's and guidebook arrived today. I have to do 30-40 minutes of practice every single day, for a minimum of 5-6 weeks. I'm planning to start at around 32 weeks.
Here's the other thing (and maybe this will placate you naysayers out there): I don't actually have an agenda. Only this: that I am excited to birth my baby. Thrilled. I can't wait. I think it will be the best experience of my life thus far.
And also... If I need an epidural, if I need a C-section, or any other intervention... that will be fine. I'm not planning on them... but I'm not fighting them, either. I trust that my body and my midwife will guide me through this. I don't have my ego wrapped up in this. I'm merely curious to see how attitude can affect experience. If we aren't told every minute of our lives that labor is the worst thing ever... maybe it won't be?
My job is to listen. The important thing for me is that I enjoy the experience, however it turns out. And I believe that I will. But truly, the only critical thing is that my precious little girl (!!!) and I survive the experience, and come out healthy at the other end.
... Here's a beautiful clip of a Hypnobabies home birth, complete with a sibling present. (Please note, I am planning on a hospital birth... mainly because I don't want to be responsible for cleaning up from a birth, and without a romantic partner, I know that's it would ultimately land on me. But if, for some reason, my baby was "accidentally" born at home... well, I wouldn't hate that. At all.)
(Why am I nervous to share this with all of you? I'm worried you gentle readers will feel compelled to tell me all the reasons I'm wrong, or that I'm somehow attacking your birth experience. Please don't feel this way. I'm just excited and curious to try a different way.)
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Saturday morning fabulousness, now with photos
Here's a picture of the belly from when I got up this morning. Photographing myself forces me to make my bed, too, another benefit! I always do it on weekdays but am lazy on weekends.
In case you were wondering, the red velvet pillow is on the bed behind me, and is NOT protruding from my stomach itself.
I think the mirror is unfairly slimming, which is a weird thing when you are pregnant and not especially trying to make your stomach look smaller. So I think I'm actually a little bigger than the picture reflects. But anyway, by point of comparison you can see some growth from previous weeks... Trying to take pictures weekly now, for the adorable "Belly Book" that my mom got me. It's a great little scrapbook that I'm writing for Lentil and me. I highly recommend it. It's very low maintenance.
*** not related to photo above ***
...So I think in my efforts (not that impressive, even) to get "back" into shape, I've actually been having some symptoms of "overtraining." This is something I used to experience back in my days of marathon training. The big one is feeling hyper and not being able to sleep, even when the body is tired.
What a relief to feel more like myself today, personality wise. And how lovely to linger over email and a cup of tea and my daily quotient of yogurt and banana (I'm willing to eat other things, it's just that this combo always makes me feel great... and it's easy.)
Yesterday I was so beyond tired, and my quads hurt so much. And I felt cranky and restless. That this could happen from my paltry workouts is shocking. However, a very long night's sleep later... I'm a much better, happier girl.
I'm planning to stay off the elliptical today, even though, for scheduling and "training" purposes, I really want to climb back on. But my quads are still sore. So no dice. Instead, I'm planning to go for a nice walk in Ditmas Park in just a few minutes. Ditmas Park is not actually a park, just the neighborhood adjacent to mine.. and I discovered, walking back through there from Prospect Park (which is an actual park) with a friend a few weeks ago, has the most amazing houses. It doesn't look anything like stereotypical Brooklyn. (I reckon I should post a few photos of that, too, for contrast.... especially for those of you who don't know Brooklyn, stereotypical or otherwise. Trust me, it doesn't look like the photos below.)
I love a house that needs a little TLC. It's more approachable, somehow.
A little too perfect for my tastes. It looks like a museum. In fact, it may well be a museum. Some too-cool-for-school-to-even-be-labeled-as-a-museum kind of museum.
Beautiful Prospect Park (designed by the same guy that designed my beloved Central Park, Olmstead) on an early spring day. Lots of runners out. Unfortunately, none of them are me. My little Lentila is absolutely worth it. But I look forward to hopefully getting back to it. We shall see how life plays out. Much as I love her, running and I have always had a complex and sometimes conflicted relationship.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The Human Dumpster (a very boring post)
That's what I feel like.
The last day or two, I just keep dumping more food in, and... nothing.
Well, that's not true, exactly. I get full more quickly the last week or two. But then, as if by magic, an hour or two later, I'm hungry again. It feels unbelievable, how much I am eating. And how quickly I get hungry again.
But there's no question of not eating... it's more a question of, can I wait 5-10 minutes, or do I have to eat RIGHT NOW. That's about all the flexibility I've got.
My belly has grown magically this week as well. It sticks out a lot in the middle, but not much at all on the sides... so it looks vaguely cone-shaped. Alas, I have a feeling my sides are not far behind in their own personal growth spurt.
I ate fish twice this week, and shrimp twice more. Still trying, gently, to work towards this Weston Price ideal of nutrition.
I've worked out three times this week... not including the weekend. And these were not impressive workouts. Less than 30 minutes, all. But I'm trying to keep my hand in. Adding a minute here, a minute there, when I can (time is the issue more than fitness... it's just that it's so hard to get my ass out of bed in the morning to work out.... though lately after my 30 minute weekend workouts, I'm tired) I have a fear of labor without some level of fitness. So I'm trying to get back to at least 30 minutes (ideally longer on weekends), 5 days a week. It's a long uphill battle at the moment. My quads hurt.
I'm trying to do right by my body, here. It's confusing sometimes, knowing what to do.
The last day or two, I just keep dumping more food in, and... nothing.
Well, that's not true, exactly. I get full more quickly the last week or two. But then, as if by magic, an hour or two later, I'm hungry again. It feels unbelievable, how much I am eating. And how quickly I get hungry again.
But there's no question of not eating... it's more a question of, can I wait 5-10 minutes, or do I have to eat RIGHT NOW. That's about all the flexibility I've got.
My belly has grown magically this week as well. It sticks out a lot in the middle, but not much at all on the sides... so it looks vaguely cone-shaped. Alas, I have a feeling my sides are not far behind in their own personal growth spurt.
I ate fish twice this week, and shrimp twice more. Still trying, gently, to work towards this Weston Price ideal of nutrition.
I've worked out three times this week... not including the weekend. And these were not impressive workouts. Less than 30 minutes, all. But I'm trying to keep my hand in. Adding a minute here, a minute there, when I can (time is the issue more than fitness... it's just that it's so hard to get my ass out of bed in the morning to work out.... though lately after my 30 minute weekend workouts, I'm tired) I have a fear of labor without some level of fitness. So I'm trying to get back to at least 30 minutes (ideally longer on weekends), 5 days a week. It's a long uphill battle at the moment. My quads hurt.
I'm trying to do right by my body, here. It's confusing sometimes, knowing what to do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)