Birth Plan, oh how I loathe thee!

Ever since the beginning of my pregnancy I've been hearing and reading about this ridiculous thing that every pregnant woman is supposed to write called the Birth Plan. It's this little one-page essay-type thing that you write talking about what you expect from your birth experience: who's going to be there, will there be music, how you want to be treated in labor, blah, blah, blah. I don't want to start a huge diatribe here, but GOOD LORD do I loathe the idea of a Birth Plan! The truth is that from the beginning it has always seemed like a half-baked, idiotic scheme made up by hippies who love water births or something equally insane, but now, considering that I'm technically overdue and I may be having to consider delivery methods other than the traditional vaginal delivery, I REALLY can't even stand the thought of it. Here's my issue with the entire thing: OK, fine, so you want to have everything written out, just in case you're too out of it to just up and know what you want to happen at the moment that labor hits, but seriously. Writing a Birth Plan is setting yourself up for disappointment. Why should I write a birth plan if that will only force my brain into believing that the possibilites for birth are not only limited to exactly what I want them to be, but should turn out that way as well? I feel like a Birth Plan is a way of saying to yourself: "this is what my birthing experience will be, and anything different will not be satisfactory." Why would any woman do that on herself? Thanks anyway American Pregnancy Association! Isn't the goal of labor and delivery to bring a beautiful, healthy baby into this world? Why should I have to write a birth plan if the plan is to deliver the baby, however or whenever that might be? It just literally pushes SOO many of my buttons. It's been this way all along, but now that things are where they are with me, and I've had to come to terms with a possible C-Section in the end, I just can't even deal with it! I feel myself teetering between the deep and sincere desire to have a vaginal birth and the terror of having to admit to people that I had to have a C-Section if that's what happens, and a Birth Plan is supposed to help me how? The truth is that I don't want a C-Section, but if that is what needs to happen so little H can safely make his way into the world, so be it. The last thing I need right now is an effing Birth Plan or a load of people waiting in line to judge what will be for me a very last-minute and hesitantly-taken decision. In the end, it's my body, it's my life, and it's my baby, and everything else, Birth Plan included, can just go to hell.
All that said, here's the long and short of my Birth Plan: Have a healthy baby.

Gut feelings? Yeah, I used to have those...

This last week or so I've really started to second guess my ability to be "in tune" with my body. So many times I've thought "this is it, this is labor"...but I was wrong each time. What ever happened to gut feelings? I always thought I had those and that I would be able to notice when things were starting to happen, but of course I haven't. I even thought that classes to teach you how to recognize labor were stupid, but now I feel myself wishing I had taken one. Maybe that's just because real labor hasn't hit yet, but I really think that maybe I've lost my sense of gut feeling. There's also some other "feelings" I've had to let go of lately. I think I've been trying so hard lately to force little H out at a specific time so that it would be convenient for everyone around me--convenient for big H as far as work is concerned, convenient for my mom so she could be here to help, convenient for my grandparents since they've been waiting so long to see him and they're on a deadline, convenient for my dad so he could get off of work to come here--but it's just not going to happen that way. As stupid as it sounds, I think I've been most stressed out about little H showing up at a time that was inconvenient for those around me. I mean, for me it doesn't matter, all I've been doing is waiting for him so whenever he comes I'll be more than ready. I've really had to work to let go of that in the past few days, especially since the doctor wanted me to wait another week, past my due date, to see if spontaneous labor ensues, and he is refusing to induce me until I'm sufficiently dilated. The bottom line is that little H will come when he's ready, in spite of everyone's schedules and so forth, and he shouldn't be forced to come any sooner than that. It is frustrating to wait, but knowing that when he comes it will be the RIGHT time is consolation enough. Maybe that is what has caused my gut feelings to sort of disappear....at each time that I had a contraction (which has been many times lately) or something else "labor-like" has happened, I've been so prepared to call everyone and say "here he comes!". Now, after all of those times, I feel like even thinking about a gut feeling is pointless...he's coming when it's his time to come. And as far as my "gut feeling" about when that might be, who the heck knows. More importantly, who the heck cares. I'm ready for him, H is ready for him, our families are ready for him, and this house is ready for him. The only thing left to do is let God send him down our way...and that happening in the safest, most natural way possible is exactly what we're praying for. So please, send yours up for the same thing.

The advent of the stretch mark

I have been such a slacker lately and I haven't blogged in so long, and I have to admit that it's mainly because the latest pregnancy-related developments haven't been all that positive for me. One of the most awful ones is the advent of the stretch mark. In spite of how proud I was to have gone so far without any, the awful little things finally showed up about two weeks ago, only to be made worse by my outbreak of PUPPP, which apparently starts first in the stretch marks on the belly:

BOOO! Oh, and this picture is funny too because you can see how enormous my belly tattoo has become! I was so disappointed to see those stretch marks, and even now when I look at my belly I get sad, but I'm sure they'll heal up eventually (I hope anyway). What's made it all worse, also, is that I've had to discontinue my ritual use of cocoa butter because it was aggravating the PUPPP and making it that much worse. I've switched to some other anti-itch lotions that work quite well, but much to my dismay because I've become so addicted to cocoa butter over the last few years...and even H noted that I "no longer smell like chocolate". Yes, it's unfortunate that they're here, but I guess it's just one more thing to add onto the list of sacrifices I'll make to keep this baby healthy. Oh, and I'm sure that list will get MUCH longer as his life goes on. What a blessing!

Full term and fully frustrated

Yes, it's true. I am more than ready for this precious little baby to make his appearance! As you can all see, in spite of the fact that I started contracting around 35 weeks, little H has been stubborn and still hasn't shown up yet. I am now full term, and technically have been for the last two and a half weeks, and I'm getting to the end of my rope. I remember before I got pregnant thinking how selfish women were when they started complaining towards the end of their pregnancies, but dear god, if I was wrong! I had no idea how uncomfortable and miserable the end of a pregnancy could be! And for me it's particularly miserable thanks to the last two months of the osteitis pubis, the last month with contractions, and now the last week and a half with a lovely outbreak of PUPPP, all of which have no particular treatment except delivery of the baby. I'm trying to be a good sport and not complain, but I'm honestly starting to feel like I'm never going to have this baby. It's so hard when you're physically and psychologically ready, but nothing is happening. Literally, I've been 1 cm, 50% for the last month, and my doctor is refusing to induce me until I am 2 to 3 centimeters and more effaced. Add to that his suspicion that little H weighs somewhere between 9 and 10 pounds, and you can only imagine how ready I am to meet him finally. Last week the doctor mentioned that he has "blocked out time" to induce me this Thursday (2/12), only two days before my actual due date of Valentine's day, but only if my cervix is more "favorable". My last pregnancy appointment is tomorrow and I think if that doctor goes back on his word he might be dealing with a crazed pregnant women...GOD-WILLING he won't do that! I'm starting to wonder if nature is on my side or not...and yes, this baby is getting enormous. We're also going to do an ultrasound tomorrow just to get a good estimate on weight...I'm very interested to see how that turns out. In any case, please keep us in your prayers and please pray ESPECIALLY that the doctor sticks with his original plan of induction on Thursday. I'm really hoping and praying he does. In that case, it won't be long until little H is in my arms and my body belongs to me again...GOD-WILLING. And, just for fun, here's my 36-week picture. You can see that my belly looks like it will literally slide off of my body at any moment, thanks mainly to little H's SLOW descent into the birthing position, and that I am swollen to high heaven almost everywhere. And yes, feel free to laugh if you want.

Baby H has a quilt!

One of the things that I've always wanted to do for my children as the entered my life is sew a quilt for each of them, and lately, I've been working on the quilt for little H. I was stopped there for a while because my sewing machine broke down, but thanks to my incredible husband, I've been able to purchase a new one and really get things rolling. It's been nice, actually, because it's kept me busy with something since it's so difficult for me to get up and around these days. I've been working diligently, and I finally finished it! It's pretty basic, but the fabrics I used are really cute (in my opinion), and it's got some adorable hand-made furry animals on the bottom. Here's a picture of the quilt, in it's entirety:The front fabrics are all made of soft flannel, and the backing is a satin-flannel fabric (satin on one side, flannel on the other), so it's very warm and cozy. Here's a quick shot of the back, just so you can see the quilting:If you're aware of my issues with gender typing, I'm sure you already can guess that I really wanted the backing to be green, but I loved this material and it was only available in blue, yellow or pink, so I went with blue. I think it looks nice in the end. Here's a few close-up shots of the little animals I appliqued onto the bottom. Yes, I cut those out, pieced them together, embroidered them, and appliqued them (all the way down to each spot on the giraffe), all by hand, and I have to say, I'm pretty proud of them in the end. Sorry about the elephant being sideways...

And finally, here's a closeup of the monogram of his initials (HJH) at the bottom corner (I'm not quite sure why these images are coming out sideways, but you can see it at least...):

All in all, I'm really happy with how it turned out, and I hope it's something that little H will love and cherish for the rest of his life. I washed it in some baby detergent today, so it might even be the blanket he comes home from the hospital in...how special is that?!

When We Were Very Young

The title of this post comes from one of the books from the original Winnie the Pooh book series, which I happen to ADORE, and I thought it was totally fitting for the topic of this post. I was going to call it "Baby Mama and Baby Daddy", but it sounded a little ghetto. I've been going through baby pictures lately trying to get an idea of what little H might look like when he comes out. I can't wait to see!! Although I have tons and tons of my baby pictures here with me, H doesn't have very many of his own, so I've only been able to come up with one so far. Still, you at least can see how PAINFULLY cute he was as a baby (and me, too). Here's H as a little tot:UGH! Can you stand it! Look at that adorable little face, and that nose! I have this tiny little hunch that little H has that exact same nose. Here's one of me at about the same age:Look at those eyelashes! (Yes, my mom shamefully used curlers in my hair, even at such a young age. What were you thinking mom!?!) With a combination of H's nose and my eyes, little H will be a knockout. Oh, and just for fun, here's a few more pictures of us, a little bit further into the future, just so you can see what a cute life little H has ahead of him.What a handsome boy we'll have! I can't wait to meet him!!

Aunt LG got married!

I've also been meaning to post about this for a few weeks, so I had to get it all out now. Aunt Laura Gail got married on January 10th, and we all got to go to her wedding. Even though I was supposed to be in it, this pelvic inflammation I've been experiencing has made it super difficult to walk, and so I had to back out at the last minute. I know, I felt like a jerk, but Aunt LG was so gracious and just kept reassuring me that it didn't matter. She's awesome. H and I are just so happy for her, even though we'll miss her a lot over the next few years. She lives in Austin right now, but will soon be moving to LA with her husband (they're rock stars!) to live the glamorous life. It'll be hard not having her here to share all of the great little H moments that are sure to come, but that's what this blog (and the new blog) are for. We're so so happy for them and wish them all the best of luck in their new married life. And, just so you can see how gorgeous she was, here's some pictures. Congratulations Aunt LG!!

There she is, the beautiful bride, with her new husband Uncle Dylan and all of little H's soon-to-be cousins. Aren't they adorable?!?

And here's little Lydia and Aunt Laura Gail looking all pretty at the reception. Won't she fit in perfectly in LA!?! We can't wait to get out there and visit her!

Oh, and even though I got pretty tired from carrying little H around--he's very heavy now!!--all day during the wedding festivities, he wasn't tired out a bit after it was all over. Here's a video of his response to all the fun...I think he liked it!

I owe you an apology

I do, really. It's been so long since I've posted to this blog, and that's mainly because I've been dealing with some preterm labor and bad pelvic inflammation. Yeah, I know, no excuse, but I had to throw something out there. Still, I should have been posting because a lot has been going on lately. First, what I was just referring to is that last week (Monday 1/12) H took me to the hospital because I was having contractions that had started on the weekend and kept on through all day that day. As it turned out, I was 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced, and the doctors told me that I was in preterm labor. They dosed me up with a bunch of medicine that was supposed to stop the labor, since they really didn't want me to deliver so early (at 35 weeks), and then sent me on my happy(ish) way. The good news is that the preterm labor did not progress, but the bad news is that I am still dilated the same amount and still having god-awful contractions about 6 to 7 times an hour. Yes, it's unfortunate, but my doctor told me that I sadly fit into a small group of women who experience high levels of uterine irritability due to extreme responses to low levels of oxytocin in the body. Lucky me. The good news, however, is that it hasn't hurt little H and he is doing fine and dandy inside of me, and will do even better when he comes out thanks to the fact that he's been able to stay in there for a few more weeks. As of two days ago, there had been no change in the cervix, so the doctor is pretty confident that we can at least make it to term, which is technically on Sunday of this week (Jan. 25). That day, I'll be 37 weeks. So, I apologize for waiting so long to tell you all about this, but it's been a serious emotional rollercoaster. I was so excited about finally getting to meet little H that it was hard to accept that I'd have to wait longer, not to mention that the pain I'm having is pretty intense and makes it almost impossible for me to get around even my own house. At the same time, it gave H and I a wake-up call to get all of the last-minute baby things done around the house, and my mom came for a few days to help us with the cleaning. So, all in all, I guess it was all for the best. That's what I keep focusing on so that I don't lose my mind being stuck in this house, in all this pain, just waiting to meet my baby. Please keep us in your prayers in these last few weeks, that all goes well and just as it should, and that we can all come through it safely and soundly....and very, very soon.

Oh, and just for your amusement, here's a little picture of me right before we went to the hospital last week. You can see the aching on my face, and for the record, it's officially the first picture that I looked at and said "gee, I look WAY bigger in person!". Go figure!

"The Chronicle of the Leg Shaving"

The title to this post is in quotations because it's the name of a video that a few friends and I created MANY years ago when I finally came off of my man-hating, year-long, no-shaving spree. That's right, as gross as it sounds, I vowed to go an entire year without shaving my legs as a way of expressing to all those idiotic men out there that I wasn't interested in what they were offering. And people, it was gross. The video that I just mentioned was basically what it sounds like: a chronicle of leg shaving. Some of my friends and I took video of me going to the store, buying razors, buying shaving cream, and then shaving my legs. It was totally disgusting (and admittedly, kind of funny), honestly. My legs were SOO hairy, and the grossest part of the video is the end, when all of the hair that I shaved off is swirling its way down the tub drain. Unfortunately, that video has somehow gotten missing, but believe me when I tell you it was quite a sight. Well, ever since then, I haven't gone NEARLY that long without shaving...until this pregnancy. Bending over and doing anything involving the lower half of my leg has become so difficult that I rarely have the energy or desire to bother with it, and so it has been a while since I shaved them. However....this weekend Aunt Laura Gail got married (see next post), and so I had to break down and shave them. I was seriously having flashbacks to the Chronicle video, and dear God, am I happy I got to do that, even in spite of the fact that it took me a good hour to get through both legs. I used to be so averse to the idea of shaving because I thought that, just like high heels and makeup, it was representative of the unfortunate fact that we, even to this day, live in a highly male-dominated society. I still think that's true (think about the fact that the woman takes the man's last name, for example), but, yeah, shaving rocks! My legs were so itchy and so dry before I shaved, and shaving them just made me feel so great, both inside and out. And, it sort of restored some of my self confidence that has been lost over this pregnancy due to the enormous size of my belly and the constantly increasing numbers on the scale. Maybe it's true that men control everything, but the one thing we women have that they don't is the ability to look beautiful...and feel beautiful, too. I don't think I'll ever again take a hairy, dry, scratchy leg over the kind that I'm rocking now.

M's life: the housewife chapter

This past weekend H and I went to campus to finally clean out my office from last semeseter, since God only knows when I'll be returning to school. And then Monday, I also visited the main office on campus to turn in my keys and sign off on everything, and to pick up my mail for the last time. It was such a strange sensation, and in a bizarre way, it was extremely liberating. I can remember back years ago when I first decided that I wanted to go to graduate school and finish with my Ph.D. feeling like I had to justify that to everyone. I always felt like I was surrounded by people who only cared about me one day having babies, being a mom, being a wife, and doing all of those things that are typically attributed to women in the "housewife" role. I hated that..and in a way, I still hate it today. I fought so hard to break out of that box and do something different with my life, and it was always so frustrating to me to have to explain to people why I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and how it was a good course for me. And even though I haven't yet been able to complete the doctorate, I do plan on doing it, and I do still care about that dream. It's just ironic that now, at this new and different time in my life, I feel myself reverting back to all those years ago and starting to see, in a strange way, how important this impending job is. I always imagine my life as a book in which each new season is like a new chapter, and this chapter is what I've called the housewife chapter...and surprisingly, I couldn't be happier. I never thought I would be at this point in my life, but I honestly cannot wait to be home, taking care of little H, cleaning our house, cooking for H, and making sure that all of those "domestic" things are taken care of. I feel unexpectedly and extremely PROUD to be able to be the "housewife" for H, and the Mommy for little H. It is liberating compared to the iron shackles of academia, I have to admit. It's also ironic that now, at a time in my life when I've accomplished certain things I had planned to accomplish, and when I am now about to embark on a new course that is exactly what I want in life, I am once again having to justify this course to other people, namely, those in academia. It's like my past, in reverse. Just like years ago I was having to explain why I wanted to pursue something professionally, now I feel like I am having to explain why I want to temporarily abandon my professional pursuits in favor of something that I perceive to be MUCH more important...like raising my children. It's so interesting, and I guess it just goes to show you that it really doesn't matter what other people say..and that it really shouldn't matter what they think either. I know what's right for me, and H and I know what's right and best for our family, and that is what we'll do, at any and all costs. Why? Because that is what is important. In the end, that is ALL that matters. I guess that what I've learned in this last, quickly-closing chapter of my life is that no matter what, my highest level of commitment must consistently exist at the level of my family. Beyond that, it's all secondary...and now, with that moral noted, I guess I can finally turn the page and begin this new, quickly-approaching season. Boy, I can't wait!! :)

Church shopping

I have to admit that even though I've had quite a few things to blog about lately, I haven't done it because I've been so absorbed in the quilt that I've been working on for little H (which will eventually have it's own post here). Still, I wanted to post some stuff just to get it out of my system. The first post has to do with our recent task of what I like to call "church shopping", or in other words, looking for a church that we would like to take little H to. For big H, this is really important, and so it has become important to me as well, even though I admittedly am not as concerned about it as he is. I have unfortunately had some bad experiences with religion in my past, and I feel almost (honestly) afraid to expose little H to some of the things I was exposed to. Sometimes I think I would rather see him go through life without any religious ideas forced on him than I would see him forced to take part in one religious system or another. Perhaps it's my fear that he'll be closed-minded or that he won't think critically about things that makes me feel this way. I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to, and plan to, raise an upstanding and moral child who knows the difference between right and wrong and who wants to do what's right and be a good person....I just sometimes struggle to see the connection between that and all of the other "accoutrements" that come part and parcel with many organized religions (concepts, doctrine, belief systems, etc.). For example, I will admit that I have a very difficult time understanding why we MUST accept the divinity of Jesus in order to be "saved" or accepted into the "kingdom of heaven"...or why God has to be personified and anthropomorphized on a routine basis. Anyway, those are my issues, and I'm working on resolving them. H doesn't have those issues, and so when it comes time for questions from little H, he might be the one providing answers, with just a little logical input from Mommy. All that said, we've been church shopping. Last weekend we visited a First Baptist Church in downtown Gville, and boy, was it the WRONG church for us. We debated about going to a Presbyterian church around the corner, but when H informed me that they believe in predestination, I couldn't even do it. Anyway, our first clue that this Baptist church wasn't for us was the free hearing machines that were neatly placed on the table in the foyer area, and the real kicker was the sanctuary full of white hair. We were the youngest ones there, literally by about 30 years. It was NOT the right church. The people were super nice, and of course everyone was staring at us because we stuck out like a sore thumb (and I'm sure this ENORMOUS baby in my belly didn't help that), but we have decided not to return to that church. Next week we're thinking of trying a church that one of my friends goes to, which is supposed to be a bit younger. We'll see how it goes....I'm trying to be open-minded here, and trying to work with H to do what will be in the best interest of little H, regardless of my own personal issues. Maybe it'll take me some time, but hopefully, it'll all be for the best.