Compassion

I feel like being a parent has taught me to have more compassion for others. First of all, I've now had some really rough days and realize that when we see someone having a tough time in public...we have no idea what has happened before to lead to that exact moment. But more than that, I operate under the assumption that everyone loves their baby(ies) as much as I love mine. Which means each and every single person I meet...is someone's baby. Their precious little baby. And I want to treat them with the same compassion I hope others treat my precious baby.

Now...if only I could remember to extend that sense of compassion to myself...

Daycare

Today was Wiggles' first day of daycare. He did great! I've got a cute slip of paper that tells me he made friends, caught bubbles, colored with crayons, looked at books and sang songs. Busy day! He ate half of his lunch and slept for an hour for nap! (we didn't think he'd sleep at all...) And when I came in to pick him up he looked happy to see me - but didn't run over or anything. And as we walked past the playground to leave he wanted down to go play.

So I think he liked it.

I, on the other hand, was a wreck all day. I didn't cry until I left the building - but then I cried the rest of my drive. And when I got to my office. A few times after that. Sigh.

And now we do it all again tomorrow. And I don't know why I feel so down about it when he clearly had a good time.

Disparate Thoughts

I've composed several blog posts in my head these past weeks - doesn't do much good for actually getting them up here though!

So a list, or random disparate thoughts:

1. I need daycare. For my son. Pronto. He's on the waiting list at my first choice, but it doesn't look likely he'll get in by the time we need care. I have one more place to tour that's near campus...then I'll be looking at places near where we live, which lead into...

2. Where shall we live? We'll have to decide in January if we want to renew our lease or not. It looks like rent (which went waaaay up in the summer) has fallen back down to be inline with what we currently pay. We've basically said that if we can find a house to rent for the same price as our apartment rent, we'd prefer to move and live in the house. The trouble is...we for sure can't find a house in our current neighborhood at this price. And we really like our neighborhood. So...we'd have to move to a new neighborhood, and I'm not sure which one, and that makes the "looking at daycares near where we live" rather complicated.

3. I've taken up running. I really enjoy it. I feel happy when I run. It's so nice to start the day off feeling happy for half an hour!

4. We're traveling back to the PNW for Christmas. I am part excited, part happy, part anxious. The traveling part is always anxiety inducing. I'm sure it'll be great.

5. This semester is trying to kill me at the end. Work upon work keeps piling up with deadlines all aligned. It's just mean.

6. My dissertation has really come together in the past month or so. It's nice to have that clarity and, bonus, I like my project.

7. This maybe should be a post of its own, but our little Wiggles is slightly behind in verbal skills. He's meeting all of his motor milestones (and might even be ahead...Dr. didn't say) but he's not realllly talking yet. He babbles a bit, and most everything else is variations on Da. I guess he should be saying 3 words by now, but unless we count "uh oh" "chsssssssss" and "Da" he's not quite there. We've started narrating his play per the Dr.s suggestion (it feels silly) and it seems to be encouraging him to babble more! And last night when we read him the hungry caterpillar we both heard him attempt the word "butterfly" but that very well could have been wishful thinking. I guess the Dr will be looking to see if he can say 10 words by his next check up in 3 months.

Furious George

I am beyond pissed off right now. The past several weeks and the next several weeks are a rather intense time for me in my PhD program. Admittedly, this is in part due to my personal choices, and as was rather pointedly clarified for me by a certain in-law, being in my PhD program at all is "personal choice." And apparently, because I've made such a choice, I have no room to complain. (BullShit ma'm, Bullshit. Everyone complains about their choices. Usually about the parts of their choice that are beyond their control. But THAT, is another post).

So, it is during this intense time that I have received, not one, but two letters from two separate family members. In short, these letters are essentially asking me (and Mr. R by proxy) to change our values and beliefs regarding our son to better accommodate these family members and their values and beliefs. OUR son.

I'm beyond pissed. And I just don't get it. I wouldn't be so angry if I didn't want our son to have a relationship with these people. After all, the "are family." This has been my mantra since before Mr. Random and I married - he doesn't quite share it and is ready to just not have a relationship with members of his family if they can't respect him and his wishes. (one of the letters is from his side, one from mine). I'm starting to get on his band-wagon, because this is ridiculous.

One letter basically says that they won't be told what they are and aren't allowed to do with regards to our son. That they have certain "privileges" on account of being a grandparent. Maybe we're weird in that we don't agree? We think that being the parent means we get to say what they can and cannot do with our son? (this is like...big things...like force-feeding a 9 month old cookies w/o checking first with his mother to see if (1) he can handle that food texture and (2) oh....if he might not have allergies or some other digestive issue that might mean you should CHECK before you give a BABY food. Just saying.) We're not saying she has to clear every little detail, which, of course, is what she'll do. If she even acquiesces. She indicated in her letter that this could "mean goodbye" to all three of us. SERIOUSLY? Whatever.

The other letter is from a sibling. This sibling is dating a person who abused and killed one of her cats. BRUTALLY. She continues to date this man. We have thus far made it clear in no uncertain terms we will not allow this man in our son's presence. I've had some people say, oh, as long as lots of people are around, what's he going to do? Well...considering he was abusing the cats in the sibling's presence and she didn't notice...he could do a lot. Not to mention, generally in large family gatherings a lot is going on and there are lots of opportunities for such subtle abuse to occur. We aren't comfortable risking it. Sorry. This person has demonstrated brutal violence against smaller defensive less creatures that "annoyed" him. Not. Going. To. Risk. It.

So the letter was actually from this man, and forwarded by the sibling and we're encouraged to re-evaluate our stance. After all, he went to 4 weeks of counseling. And he attached a "scholarly" article that suggests maybe violence to animals doesn't transfer to humans after all. I can't wait until I have the time to rip the article apart properly (it merely cites correlations, and has weak statistics for it at that) and perhaps find a few other articles that support our beliefs (that it may, in fact, not be safe to have him around a baby).

The bottom line is, WE'RE the parents! These are the kinds of things WE decide. Not them.

So furious.

Family Planning

I've thought about this off and on lately. And after having a oh-$*&#-could-I-be-pregnant? moment and realizing that such a thing would at this point in time bring on a cold sweat and fill me with great terror, I feel safe in saying now is not quite the time for our next little baby. We are pretty sure we only want 2 and we thought the ideal spacing would be about 3 years apart. Which...puts having the next little one right about when I'm trying to start my new job - that is, assuming I get such a job upon graduating...and assuming I graduate "on time" to my current plan. A lot of assumptions! Either way, that doesn't seem wise.

So then we could have the little one sooner - say a 2.5 year spacing. Which would put me having the next little one...right around when I defend my dissertation (same assumptions as above). That wouldn't be so bad - except I'd also be going to job interviews either hugely pregnant or with a very new newborn. I'm not keen on either option. This is all, of course, if I get an academic job. I suppose an industry job might give a little more flexibility in the timing of interviews and such.

Which leaves me thinking about 4 years apart might not be so bad. Maybe we have the next little one after I finish my first academic year at this imaginary new job? That seems...reasonable. I really don't want them much further apart than that...

I just don't know.

Why I can't read/watch the news

A 1 year old boy was fatally shot in the head in what appears to have been an attempted home robbery. My heart wrenches. I have a 1 year old little boy. He was home with his grandmother at the time. I can only imagine what that poor woman felt as she rushed him to a neighbor and called 911. My heart is wrenched just thinking about it.

It's so heart breaking. And the little one did nothing wrong. The grandmother did nothing wrong. These two heartless men showed up with a gun and killed a little one. They did do something wrong, but I kind of doubt they feel it.

And now I understand why people might only have one child. When I was younger I never understood why people would stop at one. Having many younger brothers and sister might be a factor in that, but it never made sense to me. Now I can see one possible explanation. When you have a baby it's like a piece of your heart living outside you. And you can protect it. And you can nurture it. But ultimately, things will happen to it beyond your control. It's a risk. Because a part of you can be so easily hurt. It's terrifying to think of taking that risk again. And having your heart broken into multiple pieces...all vulnerable in the world.

I still think Wiggles' will benefit from having a sibling. And we still think we'd like to have another baby. But I'm definitely leaning toward only one more now. Instead of our two, maybe three kid philosophy I had before Wiggles. I just don't know if I'm strong enough to have more.

Moving On

Well, let's be honest.  Twice on Tuesday hasn't been working out for me.  I was concerned about this and pondered why it was such a problem.  And concluded that it felt too forced.  And the result was that it was making this blog feel like an odd foreign place.  I generally just like to write about what I'm thinking, as I'm thinking it - most especially when I'm trying to work through my thoughts.  Something about typing them out in Blogger really helps me sort through things.  That's why I started this blog.  That's what's kept me coming back to it.  So, I'm moving on from Twice on Tuesday.  It's just not what this blog needs to be for me; at least not now.  And I'll try to refrain from judging myself too harshly over it.  :)

So, speaking of baby poop...oh.  Well, it sounded like a nice segue.  Because I'm worried about my baby's poop.  Or distinct lack there of.  Dear, sweet Wiggles, for all his wiggliness, is a constipated baby.  He's been having a really hard time of it.  For probably about 6 weeks at least at this point.  It all started when we took him off the Zantac that was just supposed to treating his reflux.  It seems like it was doing something to lubricate his bowels as well, because both times we've taken him off have correlated with poop troubles.  Of the sticky, clay-like, and difficult to pass kind.  The first time we took him off he also had reflux symptoms again, so he went back on and the poop issue cleared up.  The last time we took him off he didn't have reflux symptoms so he's still off the Zantac.  And the poop issue persists.

It's so heart breaking.  And incredibly frustrating for us.  I'm sure he feels it 10 times more.  We feed the boy straight prunes.  For days.  Nothing else.  Whole containers of it.  And eventually, finally, after 2-3 days of that, he'll poop.  2-3 times.  Getting softer as they go.  Until we get to the consistency we want his poop to be, and try feeding him something else.  And he doesn't poop again for 3 days.  Sigh.  I would just like to feed him a healthy and varied diet of fruits, veggies, and cereals!  It would be nice to be contemplating introducing meats to his diet.  But at this point, I'd just like to be able to feed him more than prunes!!!!!

We took him to his pediatrician for the poop issues and some (presumably) unrelated congestion that's been around for about a month now.  He's on antibiotics for that, and we were warned they might cause a laxative effect - which in his case would be a good thing.  They seemed to the very first day he took them...and since then...nada.  So we're adding miralax to his diet and upping the dose until we get him pooping soft poops in a regular fashion.  Ugh.  The pediatrician still thinks he'll outgrow this - that his system is having a hard time because he was breastfed.  I'm not so sure.

In fact, I'm downright unconvinced.  Since it correlates to when we stopped Zantac...I'm inclined to think there's something else going on here.  Either that his body adapted to where it needs Zantac to regulate...or he has something else going on that the Zantac inadvertently was treating.  The trouble is...Zantac is juts an antacid!  It doesn't actually do that much and we weren't giving him very much either - not enough to think the syrup in the medicine was helping.  But maybe it was?  Maybe the peppermint flavor was doing something for his bowels?  It's crazy...but I find myself wondering.

So if anyone out there has experience, thoughts or advice on this matter, I'm definitely all ears.  My little guy is 8 months old, and having a ridiculously hard time pooping.

Traveling with ze Baby

I realized the other day that I never shared one of my more recent adventures.  I traveled with Wiggles to a conference where I presented a paper.  The trip up was uneventful - standard plane ride and the baby was pretty well behaved.  He didn't sleep at all mind you.  Not in the airport.  Not on the plane.  But we made it and no one gave me the stink eye that I saw and he eventually got a nap at the hotel.

The next few days, again, uneventful.  Finally, comes the morning to head back home.  We get dropped off at the airport with just enough time for me to grab some lunch and find a quiet corner to eat it.  I appeased Wiggles by feeding him puffs between feeding myself my food.  We were both fed and happy, hit the restroom one last time for me and a diaper change for the baby, and hit our gate about 10 minutes before boarding should start.  I was feeling AWESOME.  It was definitely too good to last.

Around the time our flight was scheduled to depart we finally get an announcement in the gate to sit back down...there's a mechanical problem and it'll be at least 15 more minutes.  The short version of this story is that ultimately the plane was determined to have a bigger problem and wouldn't be leaving for at least 7 more hours.  Now.  At this point I'd been in the airport for roughly 2 hours and had timed the flight to coincide with Wiggles' nursing schedule.  So I'm nursing the little guy when this announcement is made and everyone rushes to the customer service kiosk to get on the next flight out.  Maybe other mothers are superwomen...but I can't just pack up mid-breastfeeding and find my way to the line that fast.

Oh the despair as I looked at that line and contemplated another 7 hours in the airport followed by a roughly 3 hour flight.

Ultimately...that's what happened.

Wiggles and I got the great fun of spending 10 hours in the airport, followed by a 3 hour flight before getting home that day.  You know what though?  My son is a Trooper.  He was so good the whole day.  Again, he didn't really sleep mind you.  He did manage 3 20 minute naps throughout the entirety of the 13 hour adventure...which is certainly not enough and he was definitely deliriously tired when we finally made it home. But - we made it.  And it was definitely a bonding experience.

Even if the anxiety from the whole event caused me to cancel a planned trip for the month following.  Mr. Random, Wiggles and I were supposed to fly back home to visit some folks and attend a wedding and I was seriously losing sleep with anxiety at the idea.  I mean - it went fine enough, but it is definitely NOT an experience I want to repeat.  And definitely not so soon.

I did get comped a $300 credit for my troubles.  It didn't seem like enough then.  It still doesn't now.  I feel the anxiety coming back just reliving the day, so that's all I'm going to say about that!

PhD, not MD

I may be working on adding a Dr. to the beginning of my name, however; I need to remind myself that that Dr. has nothing to do with medicine.  The experimental weaning from ranitidine was most likely a total failure.

I say *most likely* because, well, you never know for sure with a baby, do you?  So, we stopped Wiggles medicine on a Sunday.  Our theory - it was interfering with his ability to poop, and this was causing discomfort, which was disrupting his sleep.  Now...upon stopping the medicine our boy started sleeping better at night(4 hour stretches y'all!) but there was still no poop.  For a week.  Which...as he is breastfed could be normal, but was a bit of a long time without poop for his "normal".  And the trouble was, by the end of the week, he was definitely straining and then crying.  And farting, and then crying.  It was heartbreaking.  Meanwhile, we'd had that one sudden cry in the night...but nothing more.

So...was it reflux?  Gas pain?  A very urgent need to poop but for whatever reason it wasn't happening?  Finally, it all came to a head on the 7th morning, exactly 1 week after stopping the medicine.  He woke up and just cried.  It was like a flashback to his 4th week of life (just before starting the Zantac) but with much greater lung power.  He was definitely unhappy, and definitely uncomfortable.  :(

Meanwhile, Mr. Random had left right as he was waking up to go get some dark corn syrup.  This was recommended by the pediatrician's triage line as a potential cure for the no-pooping issue.  So I was supposed to wait to feed Little Wiggles until he got back - because we were going to mix the corn syrup with the breast milk I had pumped just for that purpose.  I was literally 5 seconds from giving in and nursing the hysterical baby when Mr. Random got back with the syrup.  So we gave him that.  And his Zantac dose.

And he did poop a little later that day.  And he hasn't been quite as hysterical, though he's still been more upset than normal.  And cried after farting.

So...was it reflux?  The need to poop?  Both?  Or - the wildcard, teething?  Because we think he's teething.  There aren't tell-tale white bumps in his gums yet, but if you feel his gums they're feeling thinner and you can kind of feel teeth.  And he's definitely chomping on things with his mouth.

That's the trouble with babies.  Far too many variables, and no way to control all but one.  I'm just glad he seems to be doing better.  And we'll definitely be keeping him on the medicine until we see the pediatrician at his 4 month visit.

Frustration

Ugh.  So, we're trying the no medicine thing.  And it's been 6 days.  And it's been going reasonably well.  We started seeing a longer stretch of sleep at night (at least 4 hours!) and there was more frequent farting and burping.  I was feeling good about our decision. 

And then last night around 2:30 am he woke with a LOUD cry.  Usually he coughs a little, makes some noises, and then starts with a cry that kind of winds up.  This was a 0 to 60 in .3 seconds kind of cry without any warning.  And it freaked me out.  At first, I wasn't sure what was wrong, but was incredibly worried.  Mr. Random thought maybe he was still asleep, but immediately after the no-warning cry he started the cough, cough and then crying in earnest.  I went and fed him and he nursed to sleep.  When I put him back in his bed I smelled that his breath was a little like stomach acid. 

Ah.  The Reflux.  Most likely anyway.  So then I stood there, unsure what to do.  I mean, he was back asleep.  Do I wake him up and give him his medicine.  No, of course not, you never wake a sleeping baby.  Do I give him a dose when he next wakes?  I decided I'd give him a dose if he did that screaming-cry bit again.  Which he didn't.

So now what?  Was it an aberration?  Was it because I ate a pre-packaged lunch that had onions in it, and only discovered this when it was too late?  Do we continue without the medicine or do we just dive back in?  Or perhaps go to half a dose? 

And why, why did we start on this endeavor without consulting the pediatrician?  I mean...at the last appointment I went to she had said we would probably try him without the medicine soon.  But, she was implying after his next appointment still another 3 weeks away.  And we just went ahead and did it.  Maybe because we've had such a crappy pediatrician up until this point we felt on our own anyway?  Ugh.  I just feel frustrated.  With myself and the whole situation.

Anyway, Wiggles is sleeping...so I best be off to bed.

He's fine, of course

He woke up after 3 long hours.  A 3 hour nap!  Amazing!

And then when he does sleep...

I find myself overly anxious.  I worry that he's stopped breathing.  And I've been doing other things, oblivious.  Ugh.  Wiggles is taking his 3rd nap of the day.  The first nap was 56 minutes, the second just over an hour.  So far, this third nap, he's been down for 2.5 hours.  And it's taking all of my self control to not go in there to check on him...why don't I?  Because the door sticks and it'd likely wake him.  And when you have a baby that struggles with The Sleep as much as Wiggles does...you really, really, really don't want to interrupt when he does, in fact, sleep.  But boy does it give me anxiety.  I'll probably only hold out another 10-15 minutes...then I'll risk it.

Back again

Once again, I want to do better. I want to post at least one thing a day. I am stating this here as a visible goal, hoping that will help me accomplish such a thing. At the very least, I need to keep writing in some sort of coherent fashion so that jumping back into the grad school ring after being a stay-at-home-mom isn't as shocking. So here I am.

PLUS, I really had wanted to document my thoughts and feelings during this time of my life. As it's a pretty life-changing time. But alas, I just haven't brought myself to do it.

Well, better late than never?

So my feelings currently?

apprehension. excitement. trepidation. curiosity.

What does each feeling apply to? They all apply to everything! Labor/delivery. Being a mom. Who is this baby? How will we handle this change? Will I really be able to keep the little one happy and healthy? Or should I just hope to keep it alive!?

I wonder if the baby's a boy or a girl. And what will we name him or her!? We've got lists...kind of. We don't have a fore runner. Well, we do. But every time we more or less settle on a "top pick"...I find a reason I might not be able to stomach it! I've already blogged about loving the name Isabelle - I believe - but hating that everyone and her sister are naming their girl Isabella from Twilight. I do NOT want the association with Twilight. (gag me) And I wasn't keen on the popularity - though it turns out, that while Isabella is #1 for 2010 girls...Isabelle is #100. My rule of thumb is anything below 15-20 on the list is fine. So...technically, Isabelle should be fine. Technically.

Then there is the trouble of a boy's name. For a long time I liked Aiden. Also super popular. One of you kindly informed me this came from Sex and the City. That doesn't bother me a whole lot as the show is off the air and I never watched...but it's still REALLY popular. When you take the 3 most common spellings it's the #1 boy's name. Which...clearly doesn't fit the rule of thumb. So, back to the drawing board, I started really liking Camden. I still really like it. Mr. Random does too. And then...we were watching Jumping Jack Flash - Stephen Collins is in that movie. And I was like, oh that's...what's his name, and before Stephen Collins came to mind, Reverend Camden came to mind. You know...from 7th Heaven. Oh Lord have mercy! I never much cared for that show, least of all the dear "reverend" and now, gah! My beautiful boy's name. Is it ruined? I haven't decided. Some googling to see what people think of when they hear the name didn't help much....7th Heaven didn't come up, but a crime-ridden ghetto-tastic town in New Jersey apparently comes to many people's minds. Damn. I still really like the name...

So...the name thing is still up in the air.

Then there's the trepidation surrounding the actual labor and delivery process. Yes, I know millions of women have done this before. My own mother has gone through it five times. But, there's kind of extra pressure...because I'm all determined to go "natural". And, it's more just fear that I won't be able to handle it. And that if I can't, I'm letting Mr. Random, Random Jr. and myself down. Sigh.

I worry about how we'll handle parenting. If it will weaken or strengthen our relationship. Probably both...

And I worry how I'll like being a mom. I mean...this is a forever change here! It's in no way temporary. And I start to feel like I'm too young! I've told Mr. Random...but I'm just a kid! And I do feel that way sometimes. At the same time, I realize that 27 puts me over the national average for first time mom...and, really, age is less important than maturity...and I'm probably more mature than many 27 year olds. Probably. Maybe I'm just too generous in my self-evaluation.

Coincidence?

I'm due in August. The end of August. Which basically puts me smack dab in the middle of "baby season". I've read from multiple sources that July, August, and September are the most common months to give birth. Yay for fitting in?

Anyway, most explanations I've seen for this phenomenon cite the weather "9 months" prior to this magical season of the year - suggesting that it's cold, dreary, and boring...so people have sex. And, ta da!, we have a baby boom in July, August, and September every year. Maybe. I'd be curious to see if the "baby season" is in the opposite time of the year in the southern hemisphere though.

I have another theory to offer forth. You see, there are distinct advantages to being in the third trimester during the summer season. Yes, even in the Arizona desert! (believe me, it's hot and miserable) But there are advantages. For one thing, fresh fruit is readily available and close to affordable during the summer seasons! I credit my high intake of fresh fruit with combating constipation. Supposedly a common third trimester symptom...not something I've had to suffer yet (thankfully!). Further, while my feet are certainly swelling, spreading and otherwise difficult to cram into shoes (and further more, just finding my feet around this belly to cram into shoes is enough of a challenge!) it's summer, so I don't have to worry about it. I have a wide array of flip flops that get the job done, and Bonus! can be put on without bending over or otherwise contorting myself. The pool is open in the summer. And swimming while heavily pregnant, is fantastic. It's a good time. I feel like there were more benefits, but that's what I can come up with currently. So, with all these benefits to being heavily pregnant in the summer...is it really a coincidence that that's when most women find themselves in such a condition? Is it because they're bored and cold in the winter 10 months before? Or is it because our bodies know, biologically speaking, that being heavily pregnant in the summer, while a disadvantage from the heat stand point, will actually work out pretty well for us in the end...and consequently, we're more fertile in the winter months? I think some serious study needs to be made into this area.

Baby Names

We're struggling a bit in the baby name department. Oh sure, we have a list. But nothing really settled on. Which is fine...I'm good with waiting until we know if it's a boy or girl and see the little one's face to settle on something for sure. But one of my big struggles is that my personal top girl and boy name, are just about everyone else's favorites too. Aiden. And Isabelle. Sigh. LOVE those names. I've loved them for years actually - I'm a weird one about names, and have been "collecting" names and thinking about them for a long time. I used to (as in, when I was about 12 I think) like the idea of twin girls named Alizabeth and Aeryn. (I was 12!) But I mean...I've thought about names since then or before. And in recent years, had kind of settled in my heart on Aiden for a boy and Isabelle for a girl. And I could call the girl Bella, which means beautiful, and it's so perfect. And if we have a girl, she was basically implanting when we were in Rome at Christmastime, so it's even MORE perfect! (because they actually say Bella there)

But then...Twilight had to happen. Damn those books! I read them. I enjoyed them at first pass. And then I thought about the relationship being presented, how unhealthy it was, and started to not like them as much. For a trashy guilty pleasure for ADULTS who realize that it's trashy and not healthy, fine. Enjoy yourselves! For the preteens just starting to define their ideas of love that the books are marketed too....not so much. You're giving these young women serious issues by letting them see these screwed up relationships and thinking they're "ideal" or "perfect" or something. But I digress.

The problem is, now everyone and their sister is naming their little girl Isabella. Or Bella. Or Isabelle. That was MY name people! BEFORE the damn books!

I don't even know what triggered the Aiden phenomenon. But it seems like every little boy I know is either named Aiden, has a brother named Aiden, or their names rhyme with Aiden. Sigh.

So, who cares? Just name my kid what I want? I guess.....it's just. My name isn't common. And I always liked that. So I thought I would like to give my kid a nice, but somewhat uncommon name. Which, believe me, at the time I settled on these names, they WERE. But then I think...I was never very socially popular. In fact, I often tried (like I needed to try) to stand out from the crowd and be different. Was that nature? Nurture from my oddball parents? Or did it have something to do with my uncommon first name? I mean, the Matts, Tiffanies, Jennifers, and Sarahs I knew were pretty much always popular. Was that because their names were popular? So, is it possible, that by giving my kid a popular name...they'll overcome their mother's social awkwardness and be popular themselves? Would I want them to be? What if being popular means they no longer relate to me? Have I gone way too far off course yet in this baby name maze? I think so.

But it's what I'm pondering currently. Baby brain much?

Bags are Packed!

We packed the hospital bags this past weekend. I still need to make playlists of relaxing music on the laptop...but the essentials are in 2 suitcases sitting ready by the front door. Mr. Random was the big push to get those done. Took us out shopping to get snacks and anything else I thought I needed. It was nice having him being the more concerned and responsible party. He often is...so it's not like it was that out of character, but it was still nice. :)

We have one rolly suitcase full of just snacks and drinks. AWESOME. :) The other suitcase has clothes for me...clothes for Baby (boy and girl, both new born and the next size up, in case this one's a chunker)...some entertainment items (movies...mad libs...hmm...maybe I should grab a book?)...toiletries like toothbrush, toothpaste, extra contact lenses, etc., and an aromatherapy bulb with lavender that plugs into the wall. Oh, also a rice sock for comfort/pain management.

I can't believe there's approximately 7 weeks to go!

Team Green

We do not know the sex of Random Junior. We know that he or she is an active little thing and sometimes call him/her NinjaBaby...but we do not know the he/she part. Several of our friends and family are peeved by this...not in a, you HAVE to find out inappropriate way, more in a....you're going to make me wait until he/she's born whining kind of way. Which is fine. They're impatient to know.

Truthfully, I am to some extent too. But Mr. Random is enjoying the anticipation fully. I'm usually all about anticipation of something. And for the most part, I'm enjoying this too...but not entirely. Planning has been a little more difficult. And I feel like I should KNOW. They say mother's are right something like 72% of the time if they guess the sex before it's revealed to them. Well shoot, that's better than the 50/50% odds you should have! And for the first 20 or so weeks, I was pretty sure this little one was a girl. Then I was marginally less sure...and then at 28 weeks we saw a 3d ultrasound that showed the little one's face. Complete with that looks like Daddy's nose. Seeing that...I started thinking boy more. But truthfully, I just feel like I have no idea.

Mr. Random likes to ask me each day if it's a boy or a girl. I just don't know!

Perhaps the most amusing part is when strangers offer their approval. People love pregnant women, and become much friendlier when you're an obvious carrier of the baby bump. I can't recall how many times I've had a stranger ask when I'm due and what I'm having. When I tell them it's a surprise, they almost all say "good for you!" with great feeling. Really? Thanks for your approval I guess...

Tiny Hand - Big Love

We recently celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary. It's amazing to think it's already been 4 years! Looking back, I've changed a lot in those 4 years...but in other ways, it seems like it was just yesterday, and couldn't have possibly been 4 years already!

But it was especially fitting that on that day, I felt our little baby's hand. Or maybe foot. I'm not sure. We were lying in bed, chatting before falling asleep, and feeling the little one wiggle around, when suddenly...a little tiny hand (I think) pushed up, right into my palm.

I will admit, until then...it all still felt kind of...strange. Detached. I mostly worried about the logistics and found myself seldom thinking of a cute little baby. Something about feeling that hand though...it changed how I look at this baby! NOW, it seems like a sweet little baby. NOW I find myself more often thinking silly baby thoughts of love, instead of worrying about how good of a mother I'll be.

Hee Hee Hoo Hoo

We had our first childbirth class this past week. I'm learning all kinds of things lately! The art of slow cooking, how to push a *hopefully* full term baby out. Well, I guess we didn't get much to the pushing part yet.

We had the first class, and it was roughly 4 hours long. We started with basic anatomy - I already knew most of that. I did learn that there are actually TWO sacs the baby lives in...I hadn't known that. And I learned that our instructor keeps a placenta frozen in her freezer. Which she promised to thaw and bring in for us to see. Maybe I'm just not enough of a natural granola type, but that just sounds gross to me. I've heard there are cultures where one eats the placenta. Ew. I've heard of people planting the placentas underneath a tree for their little one. This I can understand...I even think might be cool. But as we currently live in an apartment, it's not really feasible. I'm fine with letting my placenta be dealt with as bio-hazardous waste. Because, well, that's what it seems like to me.

Anyway, after learning about anatomy we learned about positions of the baby and how the baby actually navigates through the birth canal and vagina. Did you know they have to turn? Fascinating actually.

We talked a bit about nutrition - I'm definitely not eating enough protein, but I'm doing pretty well everywhere else I think. Well, that's not true. I need more veggies too. I'm not sure why I don't eat more...

We talked a bit about the stages of labor - how dad's can be helpful, and how they can be rather unhelpful (so things to avoid). We heard about our instructors 31 hour natural home birth, that was a vbac after 3 c-sections.

During some of this she talked about mindset - and compared labor to sex. And premature ejaculation. The interesting thing, was that she was talking about how when a guy tries to prevent premature ejaculation, he thinks about anything but what he's doing. And she was trying to say that labor is the opposite - we need to be all focused on it, though later she'd say we just needed to let our bodies do what they know how to do. Which one lady?

The class ended with some videos of birth. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to feel awe and admire the beauty of motherhood and such. I didn't. I mean...I was impressed by some of the things I saw. Grossed out by others. And I felt LOADS more attractive after seeing some of these women in their naked glory (which is awful probably, I know). So I clearly wasn't focusing on what I think I was supposed to get out of the videos. But gracious! There's such nasty fluids involved! A whole mess of them! And the squirming little newborn is all covered in it...and they're wrinkly and generally angry at finding themselves outside their previous warm and cozy home. I dunno...I guess we'll have to see what I think being on the other side of it.

On the way home Mr. Random and I chatted about the class. He thought it was fine...but he hadn't learned anything new yet (he's read a book by Dr. Bradley that covered a lot of it). His biggest issue was what he felt was blatant hypocrisy. Our instructor was telling us about her all natural home birth, but then went on to tell us about a decision she had to make (b/c decision making in active labor is near impossible) regarding taking some herbs to crank up her labor, or to not take them and let it dial down a bit. In Mr. Random's mind, and mine too, this is not "natural". We don't mean it's bad by any means! Just that herbs that cause a change in your labor are no different than meds! Just one's synthetic, and one's "naturally grown". Possibly. His issue was not with her taking the herbs, but insisting it was still a "natural" unassisted, uninterventioned birth.

He was also quite unimpressed by her 5 minute rant on the value and importance of doulas. There's one other couple in the class with us, and when she asked if either of us had hired doulas, and we both said no, she clucked at us in dismay. She, you see, is a doula. For a mere $550 she will attend your birth, and provide that sisterly bond that is is apparently so necessary. She does also bring a tub and do the work of filling and emptying it, which started to make the cost more reasonable in my mind, but Mr. Random was rather irritated by the whole lecture. His take is that the only reason women would need another woman, a "sister", to "mother" her during labor, is because men are kept ignorant. He feels that if he's educated in the same way she is, that he can provide as much, if not more support than a stranger, though she happens to be a "woman". And you know what, I think he could. And I would be more comfortable with him than a stranger. But I'm also a woman who's never been super close to her genetic sisters. And I have a truly sensitive, intelligent, and caring husband. I don't know that all men would be up to the challenge. And some women might truly prefer a woman's care over her husband - especially if he's less sensitive, or less nurturing.

For us, however, I think we'll just go the adventure together...and see how it goes. :)

Finally, Settled

Remember my issue with scheduling childbirth classes? No? It's a few posts back. I'm too lazy to link just now...lazy, or busy. Probably lazy. :) But I want to keep posting more regularly on here. I haven't been journaling, so this is the closest I'll get to tracking my thoughts and ideas during this time of my life.

Anyway, the childbirth class issue has been solved! We're taking a private class that focuses more on natural childbirth methods than the one through the hospital would have. It's more expensive, but I think it'll be worth it. They moved the class from Saturdays to Thursday evenings so we could take it, which was super awesome. And Mr. Random is super on board the "all natural" train, so he's glad I think. He wanted it to be my decision ultimately, but this seemed like the best way to go. I had never been happy that the only hospital class we could go to was not even going to be at my hospital, but a totally different one! Classes start this week, so I'm sure I'll have lots to share about it. Or maybe not, time will tell.