Thursday, August 31, 2006
ok, so not 10 days, but not 30 either....
Today at my appointment (36 weeks) I measured at 1-2 cm (doc said she could easily stretch it to two but won't to mess a cervix it until 37 weeks) and 50% effaced. So next week she will strip my membranes and we'll go from there. She said that unless I'm really having health issues, she wants me to get as close to 40 weeks as I can go. That said, after 38 weeks, if I'm favorable (which she seemed to think I would be) we could talk about breaking the water -- but unless my health goes to pot in the meantime, we'll just do the membranes thing and wait it out. She said that 2 weeks from now would be great for the delivery because she feels the baby will be close to 7 lbs -- she said though that she expects he won't be as big as Rhianna since I haven't gained as much weight. She had two ladies she was inducing today at 42 weeks and said "Please don't get that far" -- I told her that wouldn't be a problem. If I go to 40, I'll find my own way to break the damn bag of waters :)
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
10 days :)
Monday was... eventful. I didn't sleep at all Sunday night which my body did not like. And by not like, I mean that I got to visit the hospital. Fun fun. They gave me different drugs and said, Ok, get to 37 weeks (10 days from now) and we'll talk about getting this baby out of you. So I got my wish of getting a few days knocked off the countdown.
Today I went in for an ultrasound and was excited to hear that everything is measuring totally on schedule. They put my due
date for October 2 give/take 2 weeks and estimate the weight at 5 lbs. 14 oz., give/take 1/2 lb so he's over 5 lbs for sure which is good. Obviously we want him to be a little bigger, but it's not like he's only 2 lbs or something. I was really leary that they might say he was underdeveloped but that doesn't seem like it will be an issue. He slept like the dead though even though the lady did her damnedest to wake him -- oh, and HE's definitely a HE. We saw the scrotum and penis pretty clearly. He had his foot right to his head and we could see him sucking which was pretty cool. His head is way down and the u/s tech was surprised that my full bladder didn't push him up "apparently he doesn't mind being squished" was what she said. Anyhow, all looks good so hopefully we'll have a healthy baby boy soon.
I haven't dropped or had any impending labor signs yet but Thursday I'll have an exam to see if I'm yet progressing. I can tell you that, though baby seems pretty happy just hanging out, my body is ready to have some time off pregnancy.
And no, we haven't made any progress on a name, please don't ask :)
Today I went in for an ultrasound and was excited to hear that everything is measuring totally on schedule. They put my due
date for October 2 give/take 2 weeks and estimate the weight at 5 lbs. 14 oz., give/take 1/2 lb so he's over 5 lbs for sure which is good. Obviously we want him to be a little bigger, but it's not like he's only 2 lbs or something. I was really leary that they might say he was underdeveloped but that doesn't seem like it will be an issue. He slept like the dead though even though the lady did her damnedest to wake him -- oh, and HE's definitely a HE. We saw the scrotum and penis pretty clearly. He had his foot right to his head and we could see him sucking which was pretty cool. His head is way down and the u/s tech was surprised that my full bladder didn't push him up "apparently he doesn't mind being squished" was what she said. Anyhow, all looks good so hopefully we'll have a healthy baby boy soon.
I haven't dropped or had any impending labor signs yet but Thursday I'll have an exam to see if I'm yet progressing. I can tell you that, though baby seems pretty happy just hanging out, my body is ready to have some time off pregnancy.
And no, we haven't made any progress on a name, please don't ask :)
Sunday, August 27, 2006
36 days.
The countdown has begun and I'm ready to knock a few days of the clock. Back in the early days of our family planning discussions, Dave and I agreed without much ado that we would have more than one child. But there the discussion stopped. There is a little sadness knowing that these may well be the last days of my life that I will experience pregnancy. Simultaneously, I'm also extatic about the prospect. It seems as though, after two years of this "condition," my body is throwing in the towel. My legs have gave up by throwing in fun muscle spasms that keep me from sleeping. My arms seem to be following in the exodus of body parts that refuse to cooperate with the same tingles and bug-crawling sensations. Unfortunately this leaves the rest of my body sorely without rest and without rest, everything goes to pot.
Needless to say, I've quickly gone from feeling ready to be finished with pregnancy but nervous about having an early baby, not to mention a newborn in the midst of toddler tantum-dom, to just plain ready to be done. I'm anxious to meet our little one and even more anxious to feel as if I get some say in how my body behaves. Without going too far into the ever-growing list of complaints, it's fair to say that I hope to hear at our Tuesday ultrasound that the baby is ok to go and that any delivery would be a safe one. My great fear at this point is that they will tell me he's not fully cooked and I'd have to be pregnant well into October. In such a case, I really think I would completely loose any sanity I have remaining unless they prescribed significant sleep aid that would stop the bugs from crawling all over my body.
Today some of my girlfriends threw me a fabulous baby shower during which I recieved some last minute must-haves. No, it didn't include a margharita, but I'm sure those will be offered in droves once this little bun is out of my oven. After leaving the shower and returning to my toddler's home (yes, I've given up ownership), I realized that ready or not, this baby is almost here. And by almost here, I mean, I'm ready for him to come. I'll never be ready for what faces us with a 14 month old and a newborn, but I'm ready to pick up my coattails and walk straight into the challenge as it means the battle of a 14 month old and an unweildy pregnant figure will end. Sure, I'm nervous about the unknown, but I'm even more nervous at the possibility of remaining here, in ultra-pregnant land, for more than is absolutely necessary.
That's all I've got in me tonight. Unfortunately it's a bit of a downer post... but I guess that's what you get from an author who'd really rather be sleeping but who's body refuses to cooperate.
For my silver lining, I'd like to throw out a truly heartfelt thank you to those of you who have been so supportive in the challenges of the last few weeks. As always, I hope never to need to ask for help, but am honored to have such great friends who come to my side despite my pride. You mean the world to me and I hope you know how much you are appreciated.
Needless to say, I've quickly gone from feeling ready to be finished with pregnancy but nervous about having an early baby, not to mention a newborn in the midst of toddler tantum-dom, to just plain ready to be done. I'm anxious to meet our little one and even more anxious to feel as if I get some say in how my body behaves. Without going too far into the ever-growing list of complaints, it's fair to say that I hope to hear at our Tuesday ultrasound that the baby is ok to go and that any delivery would be a safe one. My great fear at this point is that they will tell me he's not fully cooked and I'd have to be pregnant well into October. In such a case, I really think I would completely loose any sanity I have remaining unless they prescribed significant sleep aid that would stop the bugs from crawling all over my body.
Today some of my girlfriends threw me a fabulous baby shower during which I recieved some last minute must-haves. No, it didn't include a margharita, but I'm sure those will be offered in droves once this little bun is out of my oven. After leaving the shower and returning to my toddler's home (yes, I've given up ownership), I realized that ready or not, this baby is almost here. And by almost here, I mean, I'm ready for him to come. I'll never be ready for what faces us with a 14 month old and a newborn, but I'm ready to pick up my coattails and walk straight into the challenge as it means the battle of a 14 month old and an unweildy pregnant figure will end. Sure, I'm nervous about the unknown, but I'm even more nervous at the possibility of remaining here, in ultra-pregnant land, for more than is absolutely necessary.
That's all I've got in me tonight. Unfortunately it's a bit of a downer post... but I guess that's what you get from an author who'd really rather be sleeping but who's body refuses to cooperate.
For my silver lining, I'd like to throw out a truly heartfelt thank you to those of you who have been so supportive in the challenges of the last few weeks. As always, I hope never to need to ask for help, but am honored to have such great friends who come to my side despite my pride. You mean the world to me and I hope you know how much you are appreciated.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Modern Mother versus PT
Most of my good blog ideas begin with email exchanges with my girlfriends. Today is no exception.
The incident that sparked conversation was simple. Wife with child attends an event with husband. Husband sees someone he knows and gives her a big smile-filled, somewhat flirty hug. Huggie (hereon called "Perky Tits") is completely oblivious to Wife with Child. Wife reacts. Husband is oblivious (well, technically, husband wasn't involved in the discussion so, to be fair, we don't really know what Husband has to say about it).
Here's my gut thoughts about how I would have reacted to Perky Tits: I know that Dave's committed and all that, but when a Miss I-don't-have-a-millimeter-of-stretch-marks gets that close to my husband, I don't care how secure I think I am, part of me goes "NO NO!! that's MY husband! BACK OFF!" then that part says "DAMNIT DAVE, Have you no SHAME? don't you REALIZE that you're MARRIED? Fucker."
Here's my dirty mother confession. I hate to admit to it, but it is here nonetheless. Somehow, having been pregnant and had a baby makes me feel less desirable in the whole mix of things. I've heard all the crap about how the pregnant body is a beautiful vessel of life and motherhood is glorious and all of that, but when it comes down to it, my experiences up until motherhood have told me something different. Until you're legitimately married and all that, pregnancy is definitely not smiled upon. Single moms should and do have my utmost respect, don't get me wrong, but when it comes to cultural cliche, it just ain't sexy. Woman's got baggage. No matter how you try to avoid it, no matter how much the single moms you personally know break every mold, the judgement has already been made. Well, as a 25 year old mother of (almost) two, I feel the judgement and baggage despite filling all the right status quo. I'm happily married and plan to stay that way for a long, long time. I love being a mom. Love it. But when it comes to the deep dark corners of my psyche, I confess I see myself as tainted in certain ways because I'm a mom.
Dave didn't go through that the same way. I mean, sure, he's a father now but.... if all hell broke loose in our relationship, I feel like he's more "marketable" in the dating world than I. And somehow, that drives my jealousy up a notch for Miss Perky Tits. He'll go out with his friends and (I know he's not thinking it, but he) CAN be just like he was when he was in college and single and feeling no attachments. Me on the other hand, go out with girlfriends now (because really, what do men have to offer me at this point) and chat -- mostly about motherhood, wifedom and other plights of modern women. I don't flirt -- even harmlessly because it just seems like wasted energy. I don't even want to flirt -- I mean, I remember it being fun, but I really have no interest in doing it now -- and the possibility that it might be taken the wrong way and I'd get into a big emotional thing just exhausts me. Wherever I go, my body is permanently marred by scars (in some cases literally) of motherhood. I have stretchmarks, saggier boobs, and the perpetual worry that any moment away from my baby might be one I'll regret. As much as I hate to admit it, when Dave gets any interest from someone, it pisses me off because somewhere, deep inside, it feels like for him, whether he's interested or not, there's possibility there where with me, I rarely get interest and when I do it's either A) from girlfriend who is just being flattering or B) just laughable because, did you know? I have kids.
I realize it's all about attitude. What's stopping us Wives with Kids from going out and flirting and partying like the Husbands? As far as I can see, it's just our responsible maternal crap that's holding us back. Why are we restricting ourselves? Then comes the bitter-bridget that says, Why AREN'T they holding themselves back --- they have kids too!!!! But then realistically, I don't want to be who I was 5 years ago. I've lived, changed, grown in the last 5 years and I'm proud of the improvements I've made. I'm a better person, right? Yeah, sure, but Perky Tits? if you're reading, go find a shirt with a collar and replace the wonder bra with something sporty -- and preferably granny-panties instead of the thong I see climbing four inches above your waistband.
Realistically? I'm very insecure. I really want my husband to look at every other woman in the whole world and then look me straight in the eye with complete honesty and no prodding whatsoever, and tell me (convincingly) why she sucks and I'm a goddess. I want him to look at me in awe every day because I forced his child out of my hoochie and can still give Mr. Penis a squeeze and drive his eyes back into his head. I want him to tell me until I get sick of hearing it that he feels like he's the luckiest person in the world to have me with him -- and I want new, honest answers for why I can kick Angelina Jolie's ass (probably more figuratively than literally, because Angelina seems to be way more fit than I am) any day of the week and twice on Sunday. I want him to be totally turned on by my ridiculous pregnant figure so that he can convince me that even though I feel like a cow in maternity clothes, he honestly and truly wants to screw my brains out. I want him to bore his friends with "isn't my wife wonderful" crap every once in a while. I want him to ask me probing questions because he really wants to know what I think about politics/philosophy/social concerns and he thinks that my input is insightful and valid. (Actually, I want that from the whole world.) I want him to be the person that another girl looks at and says to herself, I can't have him because he loves his wife so damn much, but I hope I can find someone who'll love me that much. I want all of that but it isn't going to happen. And if it did, I'd probably find some of it annoying and some of it just unrealistic. But I'd like to try a week of it just the same.
I think that men don't generally understand that women need such constant support. They figure, I told I love you, and I'm still wearing the ring, isn't that enough? I didn't tell you anything's changed, so why would you assume something's different? Therefore, they find themselves totally amiss when Wife gets upset by Perky Tits. There's a lot of back story that they just don't see.
Post-child, I've changed. And so have my views and reactions to other women.
My insecurities about being "damaged good" become a flaming beacon of bitchiness when Perky Tits comes onto my radar. Instead of the competition I may have felt for her when I was single, I see her in a whole different class. A class I simulatiously feel beyond and beneath. On the one hand, I've snagged my man. I've ended the single quest, reached my goal. On the other, I've got kids so this one better stick around because if I had to play the game again, well, my tits sure wouldn't be in the perky category anymore (if they were ever there to start) and the thong might never find its way out of my post-birth behind if it ever were to make its way there in the first place.
I look at women who have had children in a totally different light now that I've become a mother as well. It's an awe. A new respect. Birth is just the beginning and Mothers know that. Mothers know that labor is natures way of teaching you, real fast, that all your personal shit goes out the window for this child. During delivery, it's very physical. You poop in front of others, bleed, fart, scream -- all the things composure doesn't allow you to do regularly. From the moment that baby comes out, you don't have another singular personal moment thought as a mother. Even as I was getting my massage this week -- total "me" time right? -- nope, I'm thinking "I hope Rhianna had a good day at daycare....I wonder if she'll ever get to have a massage if she's ever pregnant.... I hope that if she does get pregnant that she's happy with her decision to be a mom....." Not that I'm complaining at all -- I love being a mom and I love Rhianna a ridiculous amount. But I'm truly amazed at how much I love her -- I really didn't know I was capable of and what was all involved in Motherhood. And when I see other moms (ok, sometimes I think, take a shower already or on my more bitter days, you're a mom, dress less like a slut but) for the most part, on the feminist-books, I'm thinking, Wow. She's doing it too. She's doing this overwhelming, loving, completely consuming mother thing too. Women rock. We're so freaking amazing it's just unbelievable.
But do men have that respect? I did have a hint the other day that Dave sorta does. His college friends just had a baby last week and he called Mike to congratulate him. Dave asked if he was there for the birth and MIke said he was and Dave goes,
"Doesn't it make you feel like a schmuck? I mean, they just did this death-defying thing and you just want to take a nap." But does the amazement fade into a distant memory when the vision of Perky Tits crosses his path? Or is it really there but just not "sexy" so they don't show it in the mass media?
As far as I know, men look at a woman and it's the same question: Butt? nice. Tits? good. Bigger tits? excellent. It seems like it's unfair of me to simplify men in that way. Are they really that shallow? Surely we Wives wouldn't have married them if they were.
Nonetheless, when a Wife sees Perky Tits, I think she passes a lot of judgement -- both on herself and on PT. She questions herself, her own worth, and wonders whether Husband secrety wants to ditch Child and Wife and bury his face in the fake-baked bossom that's irritatingly on display for all to see. Wife wants to feel that being the mother to his child has made her sexier and more desirable than any other woman in history -- that any tits that draw his eyes away from her post-nursing hooters will never hold a candle to those that nurished his child. But is that there? Is it true? or is it just something Wife is trying to delude herself into believing because she must in order to survive?
I think it's true... ...but I still want Perky Tits to invest in a turtle-neck, a baggy sweatshirt and stay away from my husband until she's either joined the Motherhood alliance (and hopefully not lost much of her pregnancy weight) or turned 65. Maybe both. Either way, and that point PT and I can be good friends. Maybe.
Or at the very least, give me a hug too -- and offer me one of those drinks you're holding because, trust me, I deserve it.
The incident that sparked conversation was simple. Wife with child attends an event with husband. Husband sees someone he knows and gives her a big smile-filled, somewhat flirty hug. Huggie (hereon called "Perky Tits") is completely oblivious to Wife with Child. Wife reacts. Husband is oblivious (well, technically, husband wasn't involved in the discussion so, to be fair, we don't really know what Husband has to say about it).
Here's my gut thoughts about how I would have reacted to Perky Tits: I know that Dave's committed and all that, but when a Miss I-don't-have-a-millimeter-of-stretch-marks gets that close to my husband, I don't care how secure I think I am, part of me goes "NO NO!! that's MY husband! BACK OFF!" then that part says "DAMNIT DAVE, Have you no SHAME? don't you REALIZE that you're MARRIED? Fucker."
Here's my dirty mother confession. I hate to admit to it, but it is here nonetheless. Somehow, having been pregnant and had a baby makes me feel less desirable in the whole mix of things. I've heard all the crap about how the pregnant body is a beautiful vessel of life and motherhood is glorious and all of that, but when it comes down to it, my experiences up until motherhood have told me something different. Until you're legitimately married and all that, pregnancy is definitely not smiled upon. Single moms should and do have my utmost respect, don't get me wrong, but when it comes to cultural cliche, it just ain't sexy. Woman's got baggage. No matter how you try to avoid it, no matter how much the single moms you personally know break every mold, the judgement has already been made. Well, as a 25 year old mother of (almost) two, I feel the judgement and baggage despite filling all the right status quo. I'm happily married and plan to stay that way for a long, long time. I love being a mom. Love it. But when it comes to the deep dark corners of my psyche, I confess I see myself as tainted in certain ways because I'm a mom.
Dave didn't go through that the same way. I mean, sure, he's a father now but.... if all hell broke loose in our relationship, I feel like he's more "marketable" in the dating world than I. And somehow, that drives my jealousy up a notch for Miss Perky Tits. He'll go out with his friends and (I know he's not thinking it, but he) CAN be just like he was when he was in college and single and feeling no attachments. Me on the other hand, go out with girlfriends now (because really, what do men have to offer me at this point) and chat -- mostly about motherhood, wifedom and other plights of modern women. I don't flirt -- even harmlessly because it just seems like wasted energy. I don't even want to flirt -- I mean, I remember it being fun, but I really have no interest in doing it now -- and the possibility that it might be taken the wrong way and I'd get into a big emotional thing just exhausts me. Wherever I go, my body is permanently marred by scars (in some cases literally) of motherhood. I have stretchmarks, saggier boobs, and the perpetual worry that any moment away from my baby might be one I'll regret. As much as I hate to admit it, when Dave gets any interest from someone, it pisses me off because somewhere, deep inside, it feels like for him, whether he's interested or not, there's possibility there where with me, I rarely get interest and when I do it's either A) from girlfriend who is just being flattering or B) just laughable because, did you know? I have kids.
I realize it's all about attitude. What's stopping us Wives with Kids from going out and flirting and partying like the Husbands? As far as I can see, it's just our responsible maternal crap that's holding us back. Why are we restricting ourselves? Then comes the bitter-bridget that says, Why AREN'T they holding themselves back --- they have kids too!!!! But then realistically, I don't want to be who I was 5 years ago. I've lived, changed, grown in the last 5 years and I'm proud of the improvements I've made. I'm a better person, right? Yeah, sure, but Perky Tits? if you're reading, go find a shirt with a collar and replace the wonder bra with something sporty -- and preferably granny-panties instead of the thong I see climbing four inches above your waistband.
Realistically? I'm very insecure. I really want my husband to look at every other woman in the whole world and then look me straight in the eye with complete honesty and no prodding whatsoever, and tell me (convincingly) why she sucks and I'm a goddess. I want him to look at me in awe every day because I forced his child out of my hoochie and can still give Mr. Penis a squeeze and drive his eyes back into his head. I want him to tell me until I get sick of hearing it that he feels like he's the luckiest person in the world to have me with him -- and I want new, honest answers for why I can kick Angelina Jolie's ass (probably more figuratively than literally, because Angelina seems to be way more fit than I am) any day of the week and twice on Sunday. I want him to be totally turned on by my ridiculous pregnant figure so that he can convince me that even though I feel like a cow in maternity clothes, he honestly and truly wants to screw my brains out. I want him to bore his friends with "isn't my wife wonderful" crap every once in a while. I want him to ask me probing questions because he really wants to know what I think about politics/philosophy/social concerns and he thinks that my input is insightful and valid. (Actually, I want that from the whole world.) I want him to be the person that another girl looks at and says to herself, I can't have him because he loves his wife so damn much, but I hope I can find someone who'll love me that much. I want all of that but it isn't going to happen. And if it did, I'd probably find some of it annoying and some of it just unrealistic. But I'd like to try a week of it just the same.
I think that men don't generally understand that women need such constant support. They figure, I told I love you, and I'm still wearing the ring, isn't that enough? I didn't tell you anything's changed, so why would you assume something's different? Therefore, they find themselves totally amiss when Wife gets upset by Perky Tits. There's a lot of back story that they just don't see.
Post-child, I've changed. And so have my views and reactions to other women.
My insecurities about being "damaged good" become a flaming beacon of bitchiness when Perky Tits comes onto my radar. Instead of the competition I may have felt for her when I was single, I see her in a whole different class. A class I simulatiously feel beyond and beneath. On the one hand, I've snagged my man. I've ended the single quest, reached my goal. On the other, I've got kids so this one better stick around because if I had to play the game again, well, my tits sure wouldn't be in the perky category anymore (if they were ever there to start) and the thong might never find its way out of my post-birth behind if it ever were to make its way there in the first place.
I look at women who have had children in a totally different light now that I've become a mother as well. It's an awe. A new respect. Birth is just the beginning and Mothers know that. Mothers know that labor is natures way of teaching you, real fast, that all your personal shit goes out the window for this child. During delivery, it's very physical. You poop in front of others, bleed, fart, scream -- all the things composure doesn't allow you to do regularly. From the moment that baby comes out, you don't have another singular personal moment thought as a mother. Even as I was getting my massage this week -- total "me" time right? -- nope, I'm thinking "I hope Rhianna had a good day at daycare....I wonder if she'll ever get to have a massage if she's ever pregnant.... I hope that if she does get pregnant that she's happy with her decision to be a mom....." Not that I'm complaining at all -- I love being a mom and I love Rhianna a ridiculous amount. But I'm truly amazed at how much I love her -- I really didn't know I was capable of and what was all involved in Motherhood. And when I see other moms (ok, sometimes I think, take a shower already or on my more bitter days, you're a mom, dress less like a slut but) for the most part, on the feminist-books, I'm thinking, Wow. She's doing it too. She's doing this overwhelming, loving, completely consuming mother thing too. Women rock. We're so freaking amazing it's just unbelievable.
But do men have that respect? I did have a hint the other day that Dave sorta does. His college friends just had a baby last week and he called Mike to congratulate him. Dave asked if he was there for the birth and MIke said he was and Dave goes,
"Doesn't it make you feel like a schmuck? I mean, they just did this death-defying thing and you just want to take a nap." But does the amazement fade into a distant memory when the vision of Perky Tits crosses his path? Or is it really there but just not "sexy" so they don't show it in the mass media?
As far as I know, men look at a woman and it's the same question: Butt? nice. Tits? good. Bigger tits? excellent. It seems like it's unfair of me to simplify men in that way. Are they really that shallow? Surely we Wives wouldn't have married them if they were.
Nonetheless, when a Wife sees Perky Tits, I think she passes a lot of judgement -- both on herself and on PT. She questions herself, her own worth, and wonders whether Husband secrety wants to ditch Child and Wife and bury his face in the fake-baked bossom that's irritatingly on display for all to see. Wife wants to feel that being the mother to his child has made her sexier and more desirable than any other woman in history -- that any tits that draw his eyes away from her post-nursing hooters will never hold a candle to those that nurished his child. But is that there? Is it true? or is it just something Wife is trying to delude herself into believing because she must in order to survive?
I think it's true... ...but I still want Perky Tits to invest in a turtle-neck, a baggy sweatshirt and stay away from my husband until she's either joined the Motherhood alliance (and hopefully not lost much of her pregnancy weight) or turned 65. Maybe both. Either way, and that point PT and I can be good friends. Maybe.
Or at the very least, give me a hug too -- and offer me one of those drinks you're holding because, trust me, I deserve it.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
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