Nothing to Write About

I just complained to hubby dearest that I had nothing to write about, because who wants to hear about what I'm thinking about?

No one, that's who. But I'm writing it anyway so suck it.

I mean, who wants to hear about how the dog's incessant, unfounded whining to go outside in this crazy heat is driving me crazy, as is his nonstop private parts licking, and how the cat won't stop stealing his bed which just leads to more whining.

I don't even want to hear about that stuff.

And who wants to hear about how I REALLY want to go buy some new clothes because I am so majorly over the two skirts, one pair of yoga pants and two shirts I have that are actually suitable to wear in public (and the yoga pants only make the list because by public I mean at prenatal yoga class). Or how I am a teensy bit concerned that the non-maternity tops I've been stretching over my belly are actually now ruined for good. Also, I am tired of flip flops and low-heeled sandals.

No one except maybe occasionally me wants to hear about my made up schedule of wake up, take homeopathic tabs, get up, maybe go on a walk, putter around, maybe make smoothies while hubster gets ready for work, take my iron and orange juice, say goodbye to hubster, explain to the dog that he doesn't need to lie next to the door because hubster isn't coming home in twenty minutes, clean up the smoothie-making materials, drink said smoothie, fill up water bottle, play a game on the computer, make some toast and refill water bottle, check email and other necessary Web sites, check the pet's water bowls, pee (for what will seem like the tenth time already), shuffle around papers on the table and counter, balance checkbook, glance at the clock to see if it is time for lunch, realize it isn't and try to think of something to write on this blog...

Yawn. Maybe a nap will help wile away the hours.

One good thing about today is that it is Thursday, so hubster won't have to go into the office tomorrow and I will have someone around to talk to who actually speaks English, rather than trying to get some sort of meaningful conversation out of the furry, four-legged members of our family.

Working from home and other things we do to prepare for birth

I started working from home yesterday. It's kind of nice, but at the same time it sucks because my co-workers still at the office aren't attuned to the ways of pregnancy, so it feels like they think I can once again do everything now that I am at home and can, theoretically, work in my pajamas (if I stayed in my pajamas all day I would also stay in bed - not getting dressed makes me feel like a worthless member of society).

In reality, I can't do anymore than I could when I was at the office in uncomfortable clothes; now I just am able to try and get more than six hours of sleep a night and I can walk around all uncomfortable like in my flip flops and eat little mini snacks all day.

On the plus side, working from home has seriously helped my timing - there are some things I do every day. Some of these are specifically for my health and have nothing to do with baby, some have everything to do with baby.

For example: for the last I don't know how many years, we've made smoothies in the morning for breakfast. I swear these smoothies are a huge contributor to my overall good health, both before and during this pregnancy. They're made with plain, nonfat organic yogurt (I don't want my milk tainted with chemicals and don't want to drink a cow's milk that has been, either), a mix of frozen berries (we buy them by the two bagfuls at Costco), a banana, lean whey protein powder, ground flax seed and now black strap molasses (for the iron).

I also take, twice a day, an herbal liquid iron supplement, along with an iron tincture made with yellow dock to help the iron absorb (both are not so yummy so I shoot them with orange juice - vitamin C also helps absorption). Calcium inhibits iron absorption so I have to time the iron to be on an empty stomach (for maximum effectiveness) and to not eat for a while afterward. They say wait an hour but I can't do that, so I usually call it good at about 45 minutes. The iron supplement stays in the fridge so I didn't bring that to work with me - too many questions when people see it in the communal fridge.

Two times a day I take three little homeopathic tabs made up of arnica and some other stuff that I can't spell or pronounce. It's friendly name is EZ-Birth and it's from Canada. They taste like sugar (delicious!) and I just let them dissolve under my tongue. Can't take these when I have just had orange juice or brushed my teeth, or eaten or drank anything else that is strong and will overpower the teeny bits of magic herbs in the tabs, so that's 15 minutes on either side.

I'm also drinking 2 - 3 cups a day of pregnancy tea, which has raspberry leaf, chamomile flowers, nettle leaf, dandelion leaf, oat straw and peppermint. Good for your uterus, I'm told. It's tasty. No cross-contamination issues here, although if I drink it later in the evening it becomes good for peeing.

Also, vitamins, 3 times a day. Not a big deal, I just have to remember to take them.

And evening primrose oil. Not to go into detail, but suffice it to say it's not going in my mouth, so no timing issues here, although I've found some times are better than others.

All in all, we do so much to keep these babies inside all warm and nestley (not the chocolate) and then - boom! 37 weeks hits and it's all you can do to get the baby out. It makes me SO grateful to have chosen the traditional, non-medical path of care, though. If I was doing all this with chemically based, non-natural products I would probably be pretty sick and, even worse, would be sending all those chemicals to my baby.

With this regimen, the most unnatural thing I'm taking is probably the plastic of the little cup that I use to measure out the iron supplement.

Prequel

In two weeks, if I go into labor, my midwives will say, "okay, cool, so let's have a baby."

TWO WEEKS.

Two.

We'd better get some diapers.

The List Goes On

Bought a new laundry basket today and started gathering supplies in it for the home birth. I know it's a bit early, but I need something to fixate on.

You do buy a home birth kit but there are things not in the kit that you need to have ready to go. Most of them I get - maxi pads, extra set of sheets (with a handy dandy diagram to show you how to make your bed for the big day), towels, washcloths, sitz bath, crock pot to keep washcloths warm, so on and so forth.

The one I don't get is a cookie sheet. If someone plans on making me cookies during this process then I am VERY happy. If not, what is it for?

My guess is an implement tray.

Although I'd prefer there be cookies on it.

Early Morning Companionship

Couldn't sleep worth a darn last night. Water was giving me heartburn and then, when I finally started sawing logs, my child-to-be decides if I'm not ready to give birth, the precious little one is finding it's own way out. Apparently that route was through my side.

After about 30 minutes of pushing little feet and/or hands back in, I threw in the towel and got up out of bed around 4:30 AM, hoping to let my hubster sleep longer.

Swaying, rocking, swinging my arms from side to side all seemed to work for a time and then the tunneling would begin again.

Too early to grab said sleepy husband out of bed to go with me on a walk with the dog, I zipped up my jacket, put on my watch (because then I can actually see myself getting more and more slow) and headed out the door.

Chinook and I made it halfway through the first lap when we were joined by Mr. Braxton and Mr. Hicks (kidding - thanks to Wikipedia I know it's just one guy).

After picking that weirdo up, we were, utterly inexplicably, joined by Sacha Baron Cohen singing the "I Like to Move It" song from Madagascar. But only four lines over and over again.

So off the merry band of us went, Chinook and I doing a brisk 20-minute mile, cheered on by Braxton-Hicks and the king of lemurs.

Jicama and other oddities

Currently, my baby is the size of a large jicama.

WTF?

Thanks, BabyCenter weekly emails, for forcing me to learn about fringe veggies.

Musings of a 32+ Weeks Pregnant Woman

This may just be the increase in hormones racing through my body and playing their little game of change and preparation on all the important innards and outtards of my body (read: brain, heart, lungs, uterus, skin, hair, nails and so on) but I feel ridiculously out of my normal alignment today.

Yesterday, I heard the fantastic, amazing news that a friend, someone whom I respect and has been an enormously supportive and wonderful person during my pregnancy, gave birth to her first child (http://glossolaliac.typepad.com/). Maybe the hormones can also be blamed for feeling so close to this person, or maybe I actually CAN be friends with girls (there's a thought), but I was so overwhelmed with the news and so damn happy for them that the only place my happiness could go was out my eyes.

How weird is it to cry for someone else's joy when yours is just around the corner?

Today I read her birth story, which set off a whole new wave of weepiness. My husband and I had been planning on birthing at a birth center, not at home, but over the last week we've discussed with each other and our midwives the idea that maybe we do want to have a home birth. After reading the aforementioned birth story, and reading the stories of others who have recently given birth, I'm having a very difficult time imagining this birth taking place anywhere BUT our house.

Yeah, so we do have a lot of work to do at the ol' homestead before it would be ready (mainly making the backyard look pretty so I don't see turned up soil while breathing through my eighth hour of labor), but a home birth is feeling more and more like the only way that this was ever going to happen anyway so why fight fate?

At the same time, I wonder, "can I actually do this?" Birthing at home seems so much more personal and...close than birthing anywhere else and I don't know if my shyness, my concern of making others feel uncomfortable to be around me, my worry about looking unprepared or like I didn't do the right thing, makes me a good candidate for home birth. I like my midwives a lot and I love their attitude toward birth, but they haven't seen me naked or sitting on the toilet.

And then there are the silly thoughts that my house won't be ready for people to be in it - there will be dog hair on the carpet and under the fridge, the cat box will smell, our fridge will need to be cleaned, our pictures are dusty, we haven't even been able to get the living room how we want it yet (decorating, furniture, etc.).

So that's where I am right now. I'm so freaking excited I can't stand it, but there are lot of other things that are pulling my focus between now and then. I wish I had all this time to focus on and prepare myself for the birth.

The Short List

We learned our lesson very early on - do not tell anyone, including your family, the names you are thinking of naming your child. It's not their decision and their input will not be helpful.

So, to that end, we have developed a short list of names, are vetting them in our own way and will announce our pick soon after it's owner is born.

And no, we will not give you even a teeny tiny hint.

Your Doubtfulness Makes Me Even More Stubborn

Just so you know, the more I feel like you doubt that this will be a natural birth, the stronger my conviction that it indeed will be.

Each day I get closer to my baby's day of birth, the stronger my conviction that:

1. My body can do this.
2. Woman have been doing this for thousands of years with significantly less and worse health care than I have had my entire life.
3. A hospital birth will take away from me everything that I am looking forward to with this birth.
4. My husband will be the perfect partner for me in this new experience and together we will make it through strong and healthy.
5. The majority of reasons that people end up with medical interventions can be easily avoided by not starting down a medical path in the first place.
6. Birth was not meant to be confined on it's back with an i.v. in a hospital bed in a cold room with strangers moving in and out.
7. This is the way it was meant to be.

So step off.

The Transition

Maybe this happens for every soon-to-be mama, but it seems to me there has a come a point where my main focus has gone from protecting with ferocity what I see as my news, my excitement, my prerogative, beyond the decision of the type of birth I want to experience to those all-important, myriad choices of what I will actually do once this little person is here.

Now that people don't need to be told I am expecting my first child, now that the evidence of said arrival is, well, evident anytime you see me, my attention has turned to much more daunting preparations. How long will I breastfeed? Am I jiving with this attachment mothering idea? Am I already setting myself, my husband and my baby up for failure because I don't plan on having them (the baby) sleep in my bed or in one of those bed-attaching crib thingies? How can I make my traditional office job fit in around the edges of the work I actually want to be doing for the next half decade or so? If it doesn't, can I leave it without it being called "dropping out?"

Additionally, how can I shield myself and my family from the ever-increasing outside expectations of how this pregnancy and birth experience will be when those same outside forces also happen to be related to me? How do I express what I want, and is it okay to want what I want when everyone else seems to want something different?

A lot of questions for too early on a Saturday morning from one very exasperated yet hopeful mum.