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- God I am so totally okay with that man.
He might win a dollar
Published February 4, 2009 | 
Chris made a bet with a lady at work that I would not go into labour tonight (as in, he will be at work tomorrow morning at 5am). Whoever loses, loses a dollar. I told him he should have made it at least two dollars, so he could buy me a hot chocolate.
Earlier this afternoon, I made up a grocery list on one of those online grocery ordering services, since Chris anticipates us using that for at least the first month after Maia’s arrival. I printed out the list and brought it to the Wal-mart that just opened up around the corner, to compare prices. (Also, wtf, is Wal-Mart a secret in Canada? I’ve never seen one so empty unless it was like 3am. I even found a parking spot close to the front door, without trying.) Since pretty much everything was vastly cheaper, I ended up walking around buying groceries. This is the longest I have stood and walked around in a month…
… and now I’m cramping regularly. Not contraction pain — and honestly, I haven’t had a recognizable ‘contraction’ in about 24 hours now — but little twinges down low in my uterus, near my cervix, like I’ve been experiencing when Maia moves anytime since Monday, except now they’re happening whenever they want to regardless of what she’s up to. When I walk (and I’m in and out of the washroom constantly), every once in awhile I’ll get this shooting numbness in my hip, like I’m pinching a nerve and temporarily losing feeling. With wide, anxious eyes, Chris is telling me “she’s dropped, your belly is definitely lower”. My lower back is achy, although I’m assuming that’s just from walking around so much, and I’ve got a heating pad on it.
But strangest of all? I smell different. I’ve never really been aware of how my body smells, but I am right now, and it’s different from normal.
I don’t think anything is going to happen tonight, but I do wonder how close to game time we are…
Maybe I really want to buy some potato chips
Published February 3, 2009 | It’s snowing outside… it’s been snowing all day.
And all I want is to go out and talk a walk in it!
I have so much restless energy right now. I’m trying to sit down but I keep pacing around the house like a freakin’ caged animal.
Chris is boggled that I don’t want to relax and put my feet up.
Score For Me!
Published February 3, 2009 | Chris has called three times from work today to check on how I’m doing. And I’ve only been out of bed for two hours. We were chatting and he mentioned that maybe I could get some more cleaning done (dishes are still a bit out of hand and there’s laundry to take care of). Five minutes later he calls back: “Uhhh… have you started cleaning yet?”
Me: Uh, no. *Thinking: As if I’ve gotten up in the last five minutes to do something dumb like that!*
Him: Okay, good. Don’t clean. I don’t think you should clean today.
Me: *wondering if this is reverse psychology* Okay, I don’t have a problem with that.
Him: Two of the ladies upstairs went into labour with their first kid after cleaning the house. So I don’t think you should clean. I think you should lie down all day.
Dear ladies that work with Chris:
Thank you.
(I’m still going to fold some laundry though)
Post-Week 38 Midwife Appt
Published February 3, 2009 | After yesterday’s midwife appointment, as we were driving home, Chris finally admitted to some sort of uncertainty: “I can’t believe you’re going to be early. I’m not ready to be a daddy yet.”
My heart melted for him. Throughout this whole process he has been so ‘tough’ and almost obnoxiously blasé about the fact that he’s going to be a father.
Example: we were lying in bed at a few minutes after midnight on Sunday and I whispered, “Holy fuck honey, it’s February.” He was silent. “I’m having a minor freak-out,” I continued, prodding him, “seriously dude, we’re having a baby soon.” He shrugged. I said again, “We’re having a baby,” and he finally replied: “Yep.” I could have punched him, but instead I grumbled, “FINE, JUST GO TO SLEEP THEN,” and, with all the dignity and grace of a beached whale, rolled over to turn my back to him.
So when he finally said that in the car, I kind of fell in love with him a little more.
—
Arriving home, we got ahold of The Grandmas. I talk to my mom on MSN almost daily, so I updated her on what Georgia had told me, and she tells me not to go into labour tomorrow (today now!) since there’s supposed to be a snowstorm. Chris called his mom and left one of his typical messages: “It’s me, call when you’re home.” At this point, I’m still cramping and there’s some light spotting going on, and it feels like as soon as I drink water I have to pee all over again. My abdomen is tightening off and on.
He goes into madman cleaning mode. The living room is now arranged for us to pull the air mattress out into, and the mattress itself is inflated in the nursery. He scrubbed the floor all around where we’ll be setting it down, even to the point of lifting our rugs and cleaning beneath them, then vacuuming the rugs. He told me to go pack a hospital bag “just in case” (you know, one of those things I should have done weeks ago and hadn’t). We hung up the pictures in the nursery finally, since it was high time for them to stop colonizing the top of the dresser. Sometime during all this, his mom calls back and apparently freaks out over the thought of me being early to deliver, then hangs up to reschedule her flight again (first she was scheduled for February 1st, then February 12th).
As he’s scrubbing the floors, she calls back and I answer. She’ll be here on Friday the 6th. “You need to put your feet up, cross your ankles, not exert yourself, and keep that baby put until I get there!” she informs me. Laughing makes my crampy self even achier, but I’m happy. I love how happy everyone else is. Even the chihuahuas seem bouncier than usual.
All night, I catch Chris watching me . One sharp contraction makes me exhale; another startles me with how intensely it comes on. I’ve hardly reacted and he’s already leaning over to rub my back and ask if I’m alright. The whole situation makes me laugh, as if I’m in danger of suddenly going straight into active labour and we’ll end up with a baby in a few hours. Labour will come when it comes!
But now it feels like that time is so… damned… close.
Contraction?
Published February 3, 2009 | I wish I had a better idea of what a contraction feels like.
Which is a really stupid thing to say, since I’m going to get to know them really well within the next little while. But I’m sitting on the couch trying to read and getting these deep crampy pains going on. It doesn’t feel like my muscles in my abdomen and uterus are tightening though, which is what I am anticipating a “real” contraction to be like. Still, I am not feeling very comfortable…
But only “probably”
Published February 2, 2009 | 38 weeks, 1 day. 3:30pm midwife appointment, but the place is packed with women in various stages of pregnancy, midwives with oodles of paperwork in their hands, the phone is ringing off the hook, and we don’t get in to see Georgia until 4pm. Her student, who I met back in week 36 (so long ago, right?) is there as well.
As they’re checking my blood pressure, Maia starts to hiccup. When I lay down and the student begins to palpitate my uterus, the baby is hiccuping; Georgia checks the baby’s position as well and there are still hiccups. Not only that, but she’s squirming all over the place. So they get out the heart monitor, and this is how it sounds:
thumpthumpthump SWISH thump HICCUP thumpthumpthump HICCUP thumpthumpthumpthump SWISH
I was trying so hard not laugh, I really really was. Chris, sitting beside me, was trying to hold back his laughter too. I finally had to ask them to stop listening so I could get all my giggles out, THEN they could resume counting her heartbeats!
They finish. Georgia looks at me and asks, “So, are you okay for the stretch and sweep today?”
I nod. I’ve been preparing myself for this for weeks now. Having not had BHC in the last two days, I’m a little worried that my body is doing something wrong and I’m going to end up carrying really, really late. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
So a few minutes later I’m naked from the waist down, lying on the doctor bed, my knees up and legs spread. Chris looks as nervous as I feel. Georgia and her student return to the room.
“Bring your ankles together and let your knees flop apart,” she says as she puts on a glove and opens some lube. What? I think. Not the stirrup position? It’s actually more comfortable to lie like this and I assume easier on her. I’m worried about the fact that there’s a 99% chance my stinky feet are clogging up her breathing space and she probably hates me for it. “Now remember, you’re in control. If it hurts, you tell me to stop. If you want me to stop for any reason, just tell me. You’re going to feel some cold goo.”
There I am, my husband sitting beside me, her student standing on the opposite side of the room, my midwife’s fingers in my coochie trying to find my cervix. “I’m looking for your cervix… it’s posterior. That means it’s still in the back. Annnnd, there’s your baby’s head,” she smiles, “I can feel the bones. She’s in a good position.”
“You can feel the baby’s head?” Chris asks.
“Yeah, of course she can,” I answer. This is probably snarky of me.
Then Georgia announces: “My fingers are through your cervix.”
WHAT? It feels more comfortable than when she was poking around looking for it. “Um, okay.”
“I’m going to start the sweep, please tell me to stop if you need to. Your cervix is actually thinned out quite nicely. Not as far as it will, but there’s definitely something happening here. You’re definitely progressing.”
The stretch and sweep was WAY worse in my mind than it was to have actually happening. I’d even venture to say that on its own, it’s not even as uncomfortable as a pap smear.
“Remember, you can tell me to stop.”
“You can stop anytime,” I say, laughing a little. “It doesn’t hurt though, I thought it would be way more uncomfortable.”
“Good, I’ll really sweep it well then,” she answers. Cramps are starting to happen as the stretch and sweep continues. Then, in a totally non-chalant tone: “You’re probably going to be early. You’re really well progressed for a first-timer.”
I wish I had a camera so I could have taken a picture of the look on my husband’s face. Of course, he probably wishes the same for me. “Seriously?” he asks.
“Yeah. You’re two centimeters dilated. Baby is about two centimeters above the pelvic bone.” (Click here for an image of “stations” in relationship to pregnancy. Maia’s at +2.)
Finally: “You can stop anytime,” I choke out. The cramps are getting pretty uncomfortable and I feel as if she’s most likely swept me well enough that stopping is a fine idea and she’s accomplished what we set out to.
“You may see some spotting tonight,” Georgia says as she pulls her hand out, “but that’s perfectly normal. If blood starts to run down your leg, page me immediately. I’ll let you get dressed.”
When Georgia and her student leave the room for me to get straightened up, I make Chris turn his back. If there’s goo or blood or whatever, I don’t want him seeing it. Everything seems alright, though. They come back in.
We go over the things she mentioned — the baby’s position, the cervix’s location, the effacement (about 2/3 effaced), the dilation, what I can expect as a result of the stretch and sweep, etc. And then Georgia says:
“Well, you probably won’t go into labour tonight.”
And then when I booked my appointment for next week, she said goodbye with, “I’ll see you on Monday, if you don’t have the baby before then!”
Oh. My. God.
I’m so not ready for this.
Bushwhacking
Published February 2, 2009 | Since I have a midwife appt in 1.5 hours during which my coochie will be bared to her for the first time (EXCITEMENT!), I decided it was time to stop delaying my shaving and get it done. Chris has been encouraging me to use his electric trimmer thing for this task, since the thought of an actual razor down there with so small a field of vision available is frightening to us both.
There I am, straddling the side of the bathtub, a magnification mirror set under me to try and keep an eye on what’s going on, happily shearing myself like a sheep. And I will just say that there was an astonishing amount of ‘wool’ coming off this sheep.
So what happens?
THE TRIMMER RUNS OUT OF POWER.
I am half-shorn. I have 60 minutes to remedy this, or I will be making my midwife laugh. Hard.
February Already?!
Published February 1, 2009 | Three times in the past week, while cooking, I have blown the power in our apartment. This happens whenever I turn the stove on while a burner is also on. You may recall that we’ve had problems with our stove in the past… sigh. Our landlady keeps having to go and flip the breaker switch or whatever it is that you do when someone’s power isn’t working. She’s (supposedly) getting someone to come and look at it “soon”, which I assume means Monday.
It’s February. Seriously. It’s pretty much game time for us. We’ve got the house mostly ready, but mentally I’m feeling less prepared than ever. As much as I keep thinking “please just come out already” there’s another part of me going “stay in there forever”. BHC are coming more regularly, although I don’t mean “regularly” as in consistently — just that I can count on at least two per day. Monday afternoon is when my “stretch and sweep”, aka membrane sweep, is scheduled. Chris actually arranged to get off work early that day so that I don’t have to wake up at 4am and drive him into work, then through the stupid one-way streets of the city where my midwife is located, only to end up parking seven blocks away because that’s the only parking spot available (the joy of their office being right next to the hospital). He is going to drop me off in front of the office then go buy coffee and hot chocolate… haha… I figure I will need the hot chocolate to soothe my nerves after having someone’s fingers poke around my cervix!
This is the last week he’s scheduled to work. The week I’m due, since we can’t guarantee that the baby will be on time but his job needs to know as best as possible when he’ll be unavailable and they can schedule a stand-in, he’s got scheduled vacation… then if she’s REALLY late, he’s regularly off the following week, but hopefully by then he’ll be claiming paternity leave.
Every woman who sees my belly tells me I’m huge and I’ll have her early. I figure this is as reliable as holding a ring on a string over my stomach early in the pregnancy to predict the gender, but it still makes me smile. We are pretty much just in waiting mode now. She could come out today and be considered full term.
It’s almost time to meet our baby Maia.
Week 37 Midwife Appt
Published January 30, 2009 | I subscribe to the GraphJam RSS feed, and yesterday this little Venn diagram popped up. It made me smile, so I thought I’d share:
Haha! I’m sure we’ve all felt this way one time or another… I’m particularly fond of “to never take off my pajamas”.
Yesterday I had my week 37 midwife appointment — technically, 37 weeks and 4 days. I can’t believe how soon our Maia will be here. I can literally count the time until my due date on my fingers and toes (even if you give me crap about how thumbs aren’t fingers!) And seriously, January’s almost over already. When the fuck did that happen?
Anyhow, Maia’s head is very low in my pelvis, which is great, although it’s still “slightly” free which means it’s not as low as it will get. She’s in the right position for birth at the moment as well, and we got a good laugh out of my midwife doing a little “demonstration” of how twisty a baby is when she comes out of the vagina (the midwife did this like… snake neck thing with her shoulders really low, then kind of twisted around to be face-up with big bright eyes and was like “AND THEN SHE SAYS HI TO ME!”) Maia’s heartbeat sounds fine and I still have trace protein in my urine. I’ve also gained more weight (sigh) and am closing in on 40 lbs added. In all honesty I don’t particularly care about how much weight I gain during the pregnancy unless it becomes a health issue, I just dread the thought of counting the pounds afterwards because I just know I’ll be worrying about them along with everything else that’ll be on my mind, and I hate that thought.
I felt as if breathing was a bit difficult last night, as if I were constantly labouring to breathe. I’m wondering if this was psychological and I just felt this way because Chris mentioned something about how heavily I was breathing in the car last night. I certainly don’t feel short of breath, but my nose is pretty stuffy and I am thirstier than usual. Chris says I’m not panting like a dog anymore, so that’s reassuring at least.
Yesterday was a really productive day. We were out of the house ‘early’ (hey, 10am is early!) to head to an office to get my Social Insurance Number (the Canadian equivalent of a Social Security Number), and it’s the first official piece of documentation I have with my MARRIED name on it which is awesome. Due to going through the permanent residency process, I never bothered putting my married name on documentation because I figured that a name change halfway through the paperwork would be too much trouble, and since every piece of identification I had used my maiden name, I decided to keep things ‘simple’ for us. But it’s been bugging the shit out of me to think of having my maiden name on my baby’s birth certificate, so I’m in a mad rush to get whatever documentation I can changed over to my married name. I’m pretty sure my midwife will put my married name on the birth certificate so long as I don’t have to go to the hospital. I guess I should talk to her about that.
We also finally put my name on the bank account (it’s been on the checks all along). We couldn’t do it beforehand because I had nothing “official” to prove my Canadian address, and now with my Permanent Resident card I do. So that’s nice. And I finally have an ATM card — I haven’t really cared about one since we’ve had a shared Visa account for years now, but it’s still nice. After doing this we went across the street to this cute little sushi place where they had a bento box lunch special — $6.99 for chicken teriyaki, a salad, and three cucumber rolls. I thought there was too much of the sweet teriyaki sauce which meant that halfway through I felt like I was eating a lollipop and not rice & protein, but it was altogether really tasty and I would go back again (and get the sauce on the side).
Our friends from Vancouver are out here this week and we were able to visit with them and their 18 month old after lunch. We were supposed to go see them on Wednesday but the weather was just too nasty to justify leaving the house and driving the 45 minutes to the place they’re staying with family. Their son is adorable — all smiles and giggles — and pretty well-behaved, as in he didn’t HAVE to be the center of attention and he amused himself with his toys and books. I really wish they still lived out here or even that we lived out there. They’ve been friends with Chris for something like 20 years now and they’re really the friends of his that I immediately felt comfortable and compatible with.
After seeing them, we went out to dinner with a friend that moved to that town the same weekend we moved out, someone that I hadn’t seen since November. I almost ordered the “country fried chicken” since it’s not something I EVER see on menus up here, but the thought of vinegary fries and lemony, salty, beer-battered fish won me over (I think my vinegar/sour taste buds are my most demanding!) and I ended up going for good ol’ fish & chips.
The waitress thought I was totally adorable and fawned over my big belly… it felt nice. In fact, I find that most women are like that — they are just enamoured by baby belly, and so sweet and complimentary towards me that it makes me blush. Chris and I laugh about it, and I try to keep in mind that once the baby is actually here, and starts crying out in public, the same people who thought my bump was “so cute” will probably be thinking “SHUT THAT DEMON CHILD UP ALREADY!” So I’m enjoying this while it lasts.
Related, my mom has been bugging me to get a belly pic and since I haven’t in weeks (I have been so distracted!), that’s next on my list of things to get done! Soon!
And another one of my bloggy friends has welcomed her new arrival — arrivals, in this case! Wiser Mom brought twin boys Doot & Bing into the world on January 22nd. I’ve been following her blog for months now and it’s really awesome to see a picture of those boys I’ve been reading so much about. Drop by, see for yourself, and congratulate her!
Fuck You Friday #3: A New Worry
Published January 30, 2009 | Woke up in the 1am and 2am hours with a stabbing pain in the middle left side of my abdomen, situated in the back but it’s not back pain, it’s inner pain. Woke up at 3:46am with the same pain and I’ve been awake ever since. Very similar in feel to earlier in my pregnancy when I’d sleep on my back and crush a nerve.
The pain faded when I would stand and go pee (normal clear urine), but it’s the sort of ‘fade’ where I still can point to the exact spot that hurts and it’s really just an achiness now, nothing unbearable but I still don’t feel right. After my third time waking up to this pain, I can’t go back to sleep because I’m so fucking worried about it now.
Lying on my left side (where the pain is) is more comfortable than lying on my right side. Sitting up is comfortable if I’m supported with a pillow behind my back like usual. I feel the pain the least when I’m standing and walking around, but regardless of my position there is a definite ache in that spot although I may just be hyper-aware of it right now since I’m on edge. However, the really intense sharp pain has not happened in the time I’ve been awake, aware, and moving. I’ve also felt Maia move a few times, which is good. Still, I’m terrified that something is wrong and I’ll have to go to the hospital and pay a million dollars, get an x-ray, and end up walking out missing a kidney with a caesarean-born baby in my arms.
I just took 500mg acetominophen, and I’m going to give myself until 4:46am and then page my midwife if this continues and see what she thinks. I woke Chris up and talked to him until he was coherent, then let him know everything I was feeling and made him touch the spot on my back (it feels better when he massages it — I am going to warm up a washcloth and use it as a psuedo heating pad to see if that helps) until he knew exactly where the pain was. I have my medical papers from my midwife right on the living room table. I’m writing this all here so there’s as precise a record as possible of how I feel and what’s going on. Even in the 15 minutes I’ve taken to type, the acetominophen seems to have kicked in a bit and I definitely feel it less, so I’m going to try to rest on the couch (the dogs sure are happy to see me) and then give the midwife a call in the morning. If I can sleep. If I can’t, well… I don’t really want to think about what’ll happen then.