spiralling -- making a mother

2003-02-17T11:44:00.000-06:00

And what a lovely baby she is.

Savannah Margaret, born February 13th at 9:24 am. She weighed 8lbs 14oz and was 20 inches long. What a precious gem. She is totally healthy. No traces of jaundice and she started gaining weight earlier than expected. I am tired, but happy. I don't think I could possibly imagine a way for things to go better than they did. I can't say enough good and happy things. We are thrilled to pieces. Birth story to follow.

2003-02-13T01:38:00.000-06:00

It seems that I have begun riding the waves... Contractions are coming about six minutes apart. They aren't terribly long perhaps about a minute at the outside. But when they are happening they are demanding more and more of my attention, and I'm getting more ummm.. whiny almost. The reaction that surprises me the most is that I keep trying to physically run away from them. Like if I'm in the tub, suddenly I want to be in bed. If I'm in bed, I want to be on the toilet. If I'm on the toilet, I want to pace the living room. But walking around during a contraction is a challenge. In the middle of them, most of my body seems concentrated on the uterine contraction. Except for the occasional thrashing of limbs. Heh. It's been about three hours so far. I can handle all this so far. In between I'm enjoying the rest, feeling incredibly relaxed and happy and close to my sweetie. But I can forsee the challenge ahead when there is diminishing rest periods. Note to self: take it one contraction at a time, one breath at a time. There will be a baby on the other end of this!

2003-02-11T17:56:00.000-06:00

At a recent visit, my doctor told me (umprompted) she thought I would cope well with labour. I didn't pay much attention to her comment at first. She doesn't know me that well, and apparently I've done a good job of hiding what a mess I am. Or that's what I thought at first. But then again, I am a strong person in many ways. One of my strengths is knowing what I need, and not being afraid to ask for it. This will serve me well. And I have a lot of tools at my disposal. Great support (thanks to Mom and Max) and plenty of practice with concentration/centering exercises. I do have pretty good control of myself when I decide to use it. No, my doctor doesn't know all the sides of me, some of which are prone to flipping out for no reason, but she must see something. She's been doing this for years and has seen many many expectant mothers so she's got an idea of what to look for. I must have something. The right attitude maybe? She says I've handled pregnancy really well. So why should labour be any different?

2003-02-10T14:55:00.000-06:00

Today's weekly doctor's appointment was rather exciting. There has been progress! I'm 25% effaced and 2 cm dilated! Not to say that makes labour imminent. It doesn't. But it's a good sign, it's encouraging. My daily contractions are doing something productive, and we're getting closer to having this baby. Today again it feels real. It was starting to seem as if it might never happen. My doctor is even on call Wednesday and Thursday, so here's hoping I go into labour then.

Of course, there was the somewhat less cool part of the appointment. We had to talk about me being 'overdue'. I'm scheduled for a fetal non-stress test at the end of the week. They'll be watching to be sure that she's active and that her heartrate varies with her activity. They'll call that test either reassuring or non-reassuring. If it's reassuring they'll leave well enough alone for a few more days. If it's non-reassuring, they'll send us for a biophysical profile ultrasound. They'll measure all kinds of stuff and try to determine if there's enough amniotic fluid, the condition of the placenta, her development, etc. If that's reassuring, they'll still give us a few more days to on into spontaneous labour. If not it'll mean specialists and immediate induction. Definitely, that is not the way I want to go. But if she is in distress, I guess better to be safe than sorry. Even if all that goes well and they don't feel the need to immediately intervene, I'll be put on the induction list for this weekend. So depending on how busy they are and all that, then sometime this weekend they'll start pumping fake hormones into me to try and get things started.

So either way, this time next week I'm going to be a Mom. It's finally really going to happen. Now it's just a matter of getting through this week. If all goes well, I'll be in labour before they even start to do their tests. Doc told us "start having lots of sex". Before Max is willing to listen to the doctor's orders, he wants everything taken care of, so we don't have to come home to an empty fridge, a house full of dishes, or bills waiting to be paid. So I've gotta go help him get us ready. Whee!

2003-02-09T19:30:00.000-06:00

I guess we shouldn't have trusted the doctors. When asked about the due date, we went ahead and quoted what the ultrasound claimed. February 5th. That was wednesday. That was four days ago. So we're all so horribly impatient for this kid to make her appearance. Somehow, even I had kind of expected her to show up by now, although I said from the beginning that I didn't believe that date. Just because I couldn't rule it out completely, we all went on happily believing the 'experts'. Why didn't I listen to myself? The approximate date I came up with was Valentines Day, and it could very well be right. I guess it's back to the old "wait and see". Ick. How annoying.

2003-02-07T21:22:00.000-06:00

Yep, still pregnant.

Just thought I'd save you the trouble of calling. My phone's been ringing off the hook all week, and invariably the first thing out of the caller's mouth is "had that baby yet?". If I'd had the baby and come home since, you probably would have heard. And am I going to get this number of phone calls when I first come home with the new infant? The entire household to be woken up ten times a day. Remind me to unplug the phone when we're sleeping.

Actually, it's been nice to feel so surrounded by love and support. There are lots of people excited about this coming attraction. That's good. I just don't know how many more times I can handle telling people
1) no baby yet
2) we're expecting a girl
3) she doesn't have a name
4) I'm healthy and feeling good
5) I'm more impatient that you are, trust me

What I'd most like is something to take my mind off of the impending event, but there has yet to be anything absorbing enough. Mom and I are going out for supper and then to a play tomorrow night. Perhaps that will do the trick? Here's hoping.

2003-02-04T17:53:00.000-06:00

This waiting game is a real head-game. I'm sending myself "relax don't worry about a thing" messages, and I'm planning relaxing comfortable enjoyable activites to fill my time. But it's easier said than done. I keep psyching myself out. My anticipation and excitment come in great waves, and I regularly get a burst of hyper nervous energy (at least once a day, sometimes a few times). And of course everytime I get a burst of energy, part of me thinks "this could be it!". And every tightening in my belly sends "time the contractions" messages to my brain. It's only when I'm walking around the lake and talking with my mom that I'm not on high-alert. I think perhaps I'll enhaust myself with all this watching and waiting.

At least I'm not the only one that's on edge. Max, his mom, and my mom all jump everytime their phone rings and I'm not sitting beside them. I feel bad that their heartrates jump everytime I call, but I can't help it that sometimes I need a favour or just want to talk. We'll all be relieved when it's over. Except for the excitment of all the new things happening. What a stressful time! A joyful time, yes. But still stressful.

2003-02-04T13:57:00.000-06:00

I don't like internal exams. Who does, really? It was very strange to have my cervix poked at, but I'm glad I got to experience it once before I am in labour, at least. There has been some progress, which is encouraging. At least I haven't been subjected to boughts of Braxton-Hicks contractions for nothing. But really it's a very minimal amount of progress. It seems that Eggbert's head has finally engaged. My cervix is very soft, but it's still tipped back, hasn't begun to efface (thin out), and it's dilated (opened) less than a centimeter. So we aren't likely to have the baby today. Then again, it could still happen. The Doc asked if our hospital bag is packed yet.

So it's still just sit around and wait until this kid and my body decide that it's time. Tomorrow is the doctor's due date for us, based on the ultrasound. Chances are I'll still be pregnant once tomorrow has come and gone. I'm not surprised. The due date based on my actual cycle puts February 14th as the Big Day. And first pregnancies are more likely to be 'overdue' anyways. So it was kind of expected, but I was kind of hoping this kid would be a keener and we could get the birth over with ASAP and get on with recovery (sounds like not a lot of fun from what I've read and heard) and the buiness of bringing up our baby.

I know I've said it plenty before, and I know that every pregnant woman spends a good portion of the last weeks saying it, but I'm sick of pregnancy. The novelty has worn off, and it's strating to hurt. Just the weight of her, and her movements in my cramped uterus put so much strain on my body. And the stretch marks decided that they should have a big growth spurt in the last week or so. Ick.

Part of me feels really guilty for complaining and whining about pregnancy. I've had a lot of support and very minimal problems with this baby. It's been awfully smooth sailing all along. I sort of wonder what I'm snivelling about. But just because I've had a pregnancy that was easy relative to other women's doesn't mean being pregnant is ever easy. It's tremendously challenging. It's a test of a woman's self-image, of her patience, it's exhausting, it's emotionally draining. Even the easy ones aren't actually easy.

I've had a lot of adjustment to do. The timing of this pregnancy wasn't expected and didn't exactly fit in with my life-plan for myself. I've had to re-adjust and re-evaluate my whole self-image, my priorities. It's a major undertaking. Of course, once I committed fully to doing this, it's been a joy and a pleasure in many ways. I'm really looking forward to meeting my daughter. I have confidence that we will have a good life and be able to provide well for our child. But getting to "Yes!" took some soul-searching, and there are times when my resolve is challenged. There is a whole life I've left behind because of the role I'm stepping into. I was young, had just found a person I was comfortable being, and I wasn't quite done being that person, living that lifestyle. Max had a few years to party and be irresponsible. I had one, and was looking forward to another one or two. I don't resent or regret the change. In many ways, it's better that I move away from that and toward accomplishing the things I want to accomplish. I can see how the lifestyle I had was for the most part wasting time. But I had expected to be there longer. Now, my life is just going to fit together differently than I thought it would. I certainly didn't expect to be engaged at this age. But I've found the other half of me in this man, and there isn't even a question of if we should be together. We are, because that is what is right.

2003-02-03T12:01:00.000-06:00

Today is my weekly doctor's appointment. These really have lost their excitement. Today might be a little different though. I'm having an internal exam, to see if there has been any progress. I'm not sure how to feel about all that. Will I be disappointed if there's none? How do I keep from expecting labour to start like, right now if there has been a little? I'm trying to tell myself progress means this week, no progress means next week. But even that could be wrong.

Maybe I should skip the whole internal exam completely. Does it really tell me anything useful? But then again, I'm dying for some news. I'm getting more an more irritable and impatient with each passing day, and it isn't even my due date yet!!

2003-02-03T11:54:00.000-06:00

Last week Max started a "baby pool". He's getting his friends and co-workers to each throw in ten bucks and take a guess at when the kid will be born. Whoever guesses closest to what's written on the birth certificate gets half the pot. The other half is to start our kids education fund. It's a simple enough idea and everyone seems to like to get involved somehow. But of course before they place their money down they like to squint their eyes and look me up and down. As if staring at me is going to give them some grand insight as to when she's going to surface. They also like to ask me when I think it's going to happen. I can't quite decide if this question is annoying or comical. My usual answer is "sometime in February". That's a safe bet.

2003-02-02T18:31:00.000-06:00

I think long walks are about the only thing I can credit with keeping me from going insane in these last weeks of pregnancy. They're great for stress relief, good for my health and they're refreshing. I always feel better when I come home from a hike around the lake. Usually I am greatly energized. I can feel myself sort of glowing. This is a good habit for me to continue, I think. I should keep going for walks regularly, even when my little sweetie arrives. I can put her in a baby backpack or a stroller and bring her along. Good for both of us!

2003-01-30T02:00:00.000-06:00

Last week in our prenatal class we were discussing breastfeeding. I fully intend to breastfeed. If it works out. I have all the info and the support people etc, so I'm quite confident that it will work out just fine. But I don't want to set myself up for another high-pressure thing where I have to perform, and if I don't then I'm a failure. I'll give breastfeeding a good shot. If it works out, terrific. If not, at least I know there is a viable - if imperfect - alternative out there. I feel enough pressure about the birth, I don't need stress about this, too. When people ask I tell them the truth; I intend to breastfeed if everything goes well. I'm not sure if it's them or me I'm trying to convince that it's okay if it doesn't work out. I feel tremendous internal pressure to do this for my child. If I end up formula-feeding I am definitely going to have a major sense of failure.

Then our instructor told us a story about one of her former students. She had chosen to breastfeed, but she was uncomfortable doing it in public. So she found a compromise. When she would go on an outing, she would plan ahead and express enough milk for them to make it through the day, and could feed her son breastmilk from a bottle when they were in public. I think this is a very reasonable compromise. Apparently on the first big family outing to the mall, when this mother sat down on a bench to feed her son, six - yes six! - complete and total strangers came up and railed on her for bottle-feeding. The nerve! I can't stand that sort of attitude. As if it's any of their business. They don't know the circumstances! What if she was on some medication for her own health that could harm the baby? Or what if she couldn't produce enough milk because of previous surgery or something? As it turns out, it was breastmilk in that bottle. But I don't think that should matter. Who are they to pass judgement on her? There needs to be support for whatever informed choices we make for our children. The parents are the ones that have to carry out their choices, so the choices are theirs to make. It's up to them and the community of caring and support to decide what is right for that family. It's not public domain. What makes a person think that it's their place to say something?

I shudder at the thought of how I might react if faced with a similar attack from a stranger. I may be too shocked to say anything (that's most likely, in fact) but if they stand there long enough for me to gather my wits, watch out! I can be terrifyingly articulate when you push my buttons. And many years of stage acting and of singing have taught me to project my voice with gusto. It's quite intimidating when I want it to be.

Then I try to look at the situation from the perspective of the people who spoke up. Their intentions were probably good. They were coming from a place of wanting to help that mother do better for her child. They are kidding themselves if they think walking up to a stranger, condemning their actions, and leaving is going to have an impact on that person's behaviour, but that's besides the point. When is something a private matter and when does the surrounding community have a responsibility to step in. I think bottle-feeding/breast-feeding doesn't justify interference, but if I saw and adult slap an infant, I'd say something. If I saw a pregnant woman drinking alcohol, I'd probably say something too. Is that my place? Isn't it still her choice? Those boundaries are difficult to place. I don't know what the right answer is.

In the extreme, there are women who are jailed for the choices they make when pregnant. [It's an American case, but I'm sure there are people who would advocate for the same thing to happen here.] In that case, a woman is sentenced to twelve years in jail for 'murdering' her unborn child - who was stillborn - because she used cocaine. Not that anyone proved the stillbirth was caused by cocaine. Do we punish women for drinking, smoking, not eating healthy enough, not sleeping enough when they are pregnant? What about their right to determine their own life?

2003-01-29T23:44:00.000-06:00

I have made incredibly poor use of my time off. It's been nearly four weeks since I went to work and yet I've accomplished barely more than nothing. It's not that I had big plans of what I would do with this time. Not at all. I purposely left it unstructured. But doesn't everyone who spends their time on the treadmill of work eat sleep work eat sleep wish that they could have a solid block of time to do exactly as they wish? I've been given that gift. And with it, I've mostly watched TV.

Yes, I've napped. And done some reading. And crocheted. But I haven't been creative, I haven't organized my life or our home at all. And now that the longest possible time they'd allow me to stay pregnant is 3 weeks from today... well I'm bored. How could I let this happen to me. Not only am I bored, but I'm going stir-crazy. I spend too many hours in our apartment watching TV or playing computer games. I have to get OUT!

I am making myself take daily walks now. (Thank you for the idea, Mom) Due to the extreme cold, they are very short-lived lately, but at least I'm out of the house and getting my heart pumping a little bit. But I really can't figure out what else to do with myself. I feel guilty for being a sloth, but I am at a loss of how I can be un-sloth-like without completely exhausting myself. Everything seems to take herculean effort, and I don't want to be too worn out, because labour could start anytime now.

Can you tell I'm just spending too much time in my own head freaking out about things? I feel a little bit like I'm crawling the walls. If it wasn't so cold, I'd just take a two hour walk. That usually calms me. What else can fill the need without giving me frostbite?

2003-01-29T14:05:00.000-06:00

I'm really going to become a mother, aren't I? I'm going to push this kid out, then it's going to be my responsibility. It will be completely up to me to provide for this tiny creature's needs, to defend her, to grow-her-up. No, I'm not doing it alone. I must not lose sight of the community of support that I have. And Max will be very closely involved. Those things are important. We will take care of her. But the sense of responsibility and importance is awesome. And intimidating. Yeah, that's it. I'm intimidated. And equal to the task, right? Right? [I'm not entirely freaked about this. I actually do have a geat deal of confidence in my abilities. But I can't shake those nagging worries and fears. I guess I'm just like every other parent-to-be.]

2003-01-27T14:07:00.000-06:00

I want my body back.

Things I look forward to:
- rolling over in bed
- laying on my tummy
- more than 3 pairs of pants that fit
- tying my shoes
- eating as much as I want without suffering heartburn
- eating as spicy as I want without suffering heartburn
- fewer doctor's visits
- peeing less often

I'm ready to be done all this. It's been a slice and all, but I think I'd rather cuddle my kid than have her boot me in the ribs again!

2003-01-26T12:09:00.000-06:00

Where does everyone get the idea that we're not going to let them know when our kid is born?

One time recently when Dad called he asked "So, had that baby yet?" I know it's his idea of a joke, but really. As if I'm going to go into labour, go to the hospital, give birth, hang out at the hospital for a few days, bring the munchkin home and no one is going to think of Grampa. Gimme a break! And Max's mom who keeps insisting we call her "as soon as it happens, right at the beginning". She only lives 45 minutes out of the city. It's my first kid, I'm going to labour for a few hours at least (more likely an entire day or more) it's not as if she's going to miss anything.

Then there's all our friends saying "call us when it happens". We've got a phone list of everyone we need to contact in the first few days. It's even broken up so if Max or I don't want to or can't make all the calls, we can share the job with our parents and closest friends. And everyone and their dog wants us to "bring the baby by!" And we will. Eventually. Once breastfeeding and diaper changes are under control I'm sure I'll want out of the house. But it'll take a while before I'm ready to go traipsing all over city with Eggbert (who by then will have a name) and all her gear in tow. And if the weather stays like it has been (nearly -40 and windy and deep drifting snow) it'll be even longer before we go on many out-of-the-house treks. Yeah, my child will have to toughen up to Canadian winters, but I don't intend for her to do it right out of the womb!

2003-01-26T11:44:00.000-06:00

Braxton-Hicks contractions are annoying. At least they're only annoying. Uncomfortable for sure, but not quite painful. I'm trying to look at them as productive. Apparently regular boughts of these spread out in the last week or two before the Big Show can do some preliminary work moving the baby down to the cervix and thinning the cervix out. So it's a tiny bit less that I have to do later. In the meantime, they create some excitement.

Max's mom might be more excited about this upcoming event than anyone else, Max and myself included. It began when we told her the good news of our pregnancy - she jumped out of her chair, pumped her fist in the air, and cheered (I wish I could say I'm exaggerating) - and her enthusiasm hasn't faltered a bit. I was a bit taken aback at first, but she's just genuinely thrilled at this development in her life and our life, and she's going to be there to support us in any way that we need.

But I digress. She's constantly reminding us both that we are to call her "as soon as it happens, right at the beginning". It's not like we're planning to not tell our families when IT happens, but I'm going to have a hard time judging when the time to pick up the phone is. Friday night I was starting to wonder. I started having brief pretty ignorable contractions around 7pm, while Max was still at work. Our prenatal class instructor told us to act like normal people for as long as possible. In her words "the Hand Of God does not point down at you and declare This Is It. Keep yourself occupied with relaxing, comfortable, enjoyable activities until it's clear that your contractions are becoming longer, stronger and closer together over a period of time. Then you can think you might be in labour. Still act like a normal human being for as long as possible. Until contractions demand your full attention, go about your daily life. You could have contractions for thirty hours and you'll drive yourself nuts if you spend the whole time breathing unnaturally and pacing about a hospital." Have I mentioned I really like our instructor? She has a great way of explaining things, and she puts it in such a way that you'll remember.

I have experienced little boughts of mini-contractions a few times before and as soon as I go do something else, they stop. So I dutifully got off the couch and started making supper. Max and I ate when he got home from work, and prepared to go to my staff christmas party (we're all too busy in December, so we put it off until January). At 9:30 we were ready to leave for the restaurant and I was still having those mild tightenings about every ten minutes. I decided to mention it to Max finally so that if I had to leave the party he'd understand without me having to make an announcement to everyone. He gave me a hug and we headed out. We had a decent time at the restaurant, and it was a nice distraction to keep me from obsessing about the happenings in my abdomen. But after a few hours of being able to ignore them, the contractions demanded a little more of my attention. I could still keep up my end of a conversation, but I started shifting around uncomfortably in my seat and squeezing Max's hand along with the squeezing happening in me. They were definitely getting longer and stronger, but closer together we weren't sure about. Max suggested we bow out early to go relax at home. He made tea and we discussed what it would mean if we really were going to have a baby this weekend.

As much as I'm getting impatient with sitting around the house waiting for labour to start, when I was faced with the possibility of it actually happening... I felt really overwhelmed. I cried, in fact. I have confidence that I will get through this experience and be better for it on the other side. But between here and there is an almost unfathomable barrier. Every woman I've talked to speaks of birth as a wonderful transforming moment for them. They all are glad they did it, even those women who had awful experiences. They all say they were really tested by the hardest thing they've ever had to do, and they all found strength greater than they ever knew they had. I look forward joining the ranks of strong loving mothers. But I also hear them saying they got to this place after going through the most difficult thing they've ever had to do. I haven't done that yet. That's what's coming for me. And I can't help but be a little scared of that.

Max and I had a good talk and a nice cuddle and the contractions by then (2 am-ish) had backed off. We headed to bed figuring that if we were going to have a baby that night I'd probably wake up for it. I never did. In the morning, I had no contractions at all. Max quipped, "I guess if we're not having a baby today, I'll have to go to work." Sorry Max. I'll try harder next time. I know you're looking forward to you're week away from work once the baby arrives. I'm not sure if I was disappointed or relieved that I get to be pregnant for a while longer. My sleep is getting shittier, but at least I don't have to haul out my milk-machines every time I wake up. Yet.

2003-01-26T09:54:00.000-06:00

My project for this past week: making the mailing list for birth announcements. We decided to make up announcements on our own computer. Just bought some nice paper and a lot of envelopes, which I've been stamping and pre-adressing as much as possible. I expect I'll be too busy and tired to put a lot of time and energy into these things once baby's born.

We're going to send out over 70 announcements. And this after I made attempts to pare the list down! It's a nod to all the extended family that this child is blessed with. She has parents & great-grandparents who are divorced & re-married, for example. Plus, I am still surrounded by a whole group of my mom's friends who helped to shape the woman I've grown into. In many ways, they are all family, too. Lucky baby!

2003-01-16T13:02:00.000-06:00

I've been following the blog of a woman who is looking to adopt a second child (find it here). And it's made me do some serious thinking on many occasions. Her experience is so different than ours. Enormously complicated, I think.

No one makes our choice to have a family and raise a child fodder for futhering their own political agendas. (Well, relatively few people, anyways. We are young and unmarried. There are some who are adamantly opposed to our reproducing.) No one tells me I'm selfish for wanting a child that is healthy and that looks like me. No one admonishes me for hoping I won't have to deal with the challenges of a special-needs kid. But by the same token, Max and I don't have the power to turn away from my child because she is not the gender we wanted, too sick, or too "high-risk". We don't get to play God in the way that adoptive parents get to. I know they don't have all the power in those situations, but they do have the luxury of making choices we can't. We do what we can to give her the best start, but in the end we get what we get. And to some degree, so do they. Even the parents who adopt a 'healthy white newborn' (the type of child in highest demand) might get a kid who later develops behavioural problems or a disability or who grows up to hate them. The only difference there, is that an adoptive parent can deny responsibility, but for us we have nowhere to look for answers but to ourselves.

2003-01-15T14:55:00.000-06:00

The cat (one of them, anyways) has developed a bad habit of sleeping in the cradle. She seems to think it's hers. Well, being a cat, she seems to think the whole earth is her personal bed. This habit worries Max. He's worried the cat will keep sleeping there when it's full of baby and that it could lead to trouble - suffocation, allergies, whatever. Though I expect the cat will distainfully steer clear once the cradle is full of another life (this one noisy and smelly), I can't completely dismiss his concern. But how do you keep a cat out? I think we're starting already to be parents-who-worry-to-much.

2003-01-15T11:35:00.000-06:00

Max asked me last night if I love her yet.

I had to stop and think.

I don't.

I felt guilty somehow for saying that. As if it was a crime, as if it meant that I won't love me child. Am I a bad mother? But that's the simple truth of it. I'm not in love. I haven't even met her, how could I love her?

But it doesn't make me a bad mother. I'm not really a mother yet. I'm playing at it, I'm practicing for it, but I'm not there yet. That's why they call it expecting. I am already proctective of her. I have put a great deal of time and energy (energy especially) into taking care of her. I've donated my body to the cause, becoming a willing hostage to her growth and development. She is definitely the boss of my life now and for the coming years. I've lovingly surrendered myself to all of this. Yet, I'm not in love. Not yet.

2003-01-15T01:02:00.000-06:00

I think I might drive myself a little bit nuts between now and The Big Day (whenever that is). I'm kind of on high-alert looking for signs of labour. Logically, I'm sure I'll notice if I'm about to give birth. It's not like I'm going to just.. miss it! None-the-less, everytime I feel a Braxton-Hicks contraction, I look up and note the time so that I can measure the distance between contractions if they continue (Even B-H contractions can come at regular intervals for an hour or so, I've discovered. But they quit if I go away and do something else). Any wetness, and I'm wondering if my water broke, or I lost my mucous plug. None of those things have actually happened, mind you. But I'm watching for them. And for those few minutes before I rule it out, my heartrate & blood pressure are a little elevated, I bet.

Am I really ready for this to happen? Can't I still back out now? Is everything packed? Couldn't I get one more good night's sleep? And on and on. It's not like I'm convinced that I'm labour everytime I feel a cramp. But. I do start thinking 'what if'. I'm due in three weeks, but could conceivably be pregnant for two more past that, so it's possible that I have five more weeks of this. Goodness I hope not! If that's the case, I think I'll give myself a heart-attack from over-stressing.

2003-01-14T17:19:00.000-06:00

I hadn't really considered parenting a political act until recently. It's something just between you and your kids, right? But no. Everything you teach your children, all the experiences you allow them to have, or protect them from, all those choices are making a statement. And everyone and their dog - even people who have never parented at all - is going to have an opinion on what you do. No matter what I do or don't do, there will be some well-meaning self-righteous person telling me that I'm causing irreperable harm to my little one. I'll be told it's morally reprehensible to give my child a soother, let him cry so long, give her a Barbie doll, let him play with dolls, spank her, not spank her, swear in front of him, introduce her to gays, babtize him, not take her to church, deny him the toys he so desperately wants - even if they're violent, let her watch TV, talk openly about sex, not talk about sex, and on and on. The particular crime I'm committing depends only on the person I'm asking (or more likely, not asking).

Not to say that I believe the choices we make won't have consequences for our kids. Of course they will. I am hugely shaped by my parents' beliefs and choices, and my children will be no different. But what gets to me now is the realization that, not only will I have to make these enourmously difficult choices on a daily basis, but my confidence in my own judgement is going to be constantly under fire. I am going to feel my way blindly along, making mistakes, and I'm going to have to find a way to deal with the litany of other peoples' opinions.

How do parents deal with all that pressure? This is one of the things I'm dreading.

2003-01-14T15:26:00.000-06:00

Monday (the 13th) I went to the doc again. I'm going once per week now until delivery. She confirmed that our kid had dropped. The measurement of my uterus had actually shrank since two weeks before. So she's definitely riding lower. Her head isn't totally engaged yet, though. When the doc pokes around on the top of my belly to find her position she has to dig pretty deep to find her head. But it still wiggles back and forth a bit. Doc suggested that it might be a good habit to start fetal movement counting. I'm supposed to look for at least 10 movements per hour in her active times (ie: when I'm trying to go to sleep). For the time being I don't think I'll bother. She sometimes has 10 movements in a minute. My belly is constantly attacked by inner earthquakes. She's going to be a dancer or a martial artist. Or perhaps just hyperactive. Oh joy.

I gained another pound, which would have gone entirely to the baby. It's strange how I put so much weight on pretty early, but then the gaining really backed off. When random strangers or acquaintances (sp?) ask how far along I am, they are invariably surprized. They have no idea that it's so close. I think people mean it as a compliment when they exclaim "but you're so SMALL!". I can't help it. It's just the way I fit together. Trust me, I am a lot bigger than I was pre-pregnancy. Mom says that she carried pretty small, too. And I was a good-sized baby. So maybe it just runs in the family.

Even my doctor (she's 5 months into her third pregnancy) seems to think I'm lucky to have escaped so many of the unpleasant effects of pregnancy. Part of me worries that I'll pay for this later with a really terrible labour & birth, or an incredibly difficult kid. But that's just being paranoid. Life is good. Last night I had a dream that I went into labour. And everything went really well. I worked hard, but I felt good about the experience. I'm even positive thinking in my dreams!

I'm not yet totally impatient. But it's getting more and more that way. Being at home full-time, I can only think about other things so many hours per day. I'm starting to send our little angel "you can come now" messages a few times per day. The excitement is really building. At least once a day Max will come up behind me, grinning from ear to ear and he'll hug me and kiss my tummy and comment about how our baby is in there, and she's soon going to come out and he'll be a daddy and I'll be a mommy. I think he's getting slightly impatient, too. And day to day, everything is about the same, really.

We are slowly progressing towards being completely organized. There's a few details left, however. The hospital bag is only half-packed, and we haven't actually purchased the stroller yet (it's selected, but we just haven't both got to the store yet. He's the one that can lift the whole darn box, and I'm the one that has the VISA. Heh. When I talk to friends and family and they ask what's new, there isn't much to tell them. I'm a mom in waiting. Trying to relax and enjoy myself, and make any effort possible to preparing myself for this undertaking. I know that no matter how hard I try, I'm going to be surprised and under-prepared in some respect (or perhaps several) and I'm ready to get on with the show.

2003-01-11T01:23:00.000-06:00

I'm having a lot of fun shopping for this kid. I still love to gush over how tiny everything is. Hell, even the little diapers with Pooh and Eyore and Tigger on them were cute. I've also picked out some books for us to read together.

I think part of the attraction to all of this is trying to make it seem more real. At 36 weeks (that's how far we are now!) our kid isn't expected to need any special attention once she's born. She's a whole live baby snoozing and dancing in my womb. In my belly. I'm looking forward to meeting her. And I'm looking forward to being able to roll over in bed, and pee only once every four hours like a normal person.

So far, I'm still riding a high of excitement and relaxation and general good-feeling-ness. This pregnancy has been mostly a breeze, and overall pretty enjoyable. I've had my moments, to be sure. But just when something is getting to me, a divine power seems to step in and make things easier. This time last week, for example, I was getting mightily uncomfortable with the huge lump of baby bum lodged in my ribs (but good girl for being in the right position). Then Monday morning in the shower I took a deep breath and then realised I had taken a deep breath! I could almost fill my lungs! The baby had dropped! Hooray! I know it could still be weeks, but this is another signal of progress and it makes the end seem so soon.

2003-01-10T11:55:00.000-06:00

For months the second bedroom closet was filled with a stack of boxes I still hadn't opened since our move at the start of July. About two weeks ago it dawned on me that it's not long before Eggbert is going to need that space, so I began the process of going through them. I packed all this before I knew I was pregnant. It sort of feels like a lifetime ago, but it's only been a bit over half a year. And how my priorities have changed! Now I can't believe the things I thought it important to drag along with me when I moved in with Max. So many remnants of my childhood, and my high school days. Admittedly, it hasn't been a terribly long time for me since those days, but now I feel ready to make room in my life for new memories. It's not my elementary school drawings that should take up room in my life and home anymore. My daughter's scribblings will now take prominence. It's another situation of the generational shift I'm experiencing. How a daughter becomes a mother and how that changes her entire world.

Christmas was wonderful. It was everything I want that season to be. I got lots of relaxed time with Max, and time with each of our families. We ate wonderful food, and just spent time. I was surrounded in love, and felt so relaxed and... glowing. I didn't get a single extra day off. I worked Christmas day, Boxing day, New Years Eve and New Years Day. I even picked up a graveyard shift in there. I worked a lot. But between all those hours, the stat pay, and the generous Christmas bonus that my boss gave me, I feel like I won't have to worry about the month where I have no income (it takes that long for the maternity leave benefits to kick in).

I coasted through my last week of work. I felt no stress, because whatever happened it was not my problem. That felt great. Most of the time I like my job, but it was really nice to not have much responsibility for a change, to just do my job without having to look ahead and calculate so much. Just to make it better, my boss approached my during my last week and suggested that once I was feeling up to it after the birth, he would really appreciate my help in the office. So if I want, I can keep in touch by going in for a shift a week or so, make a little extra money, and remind everyone that I'm not totally gone. I'm happy with that. It was good to know that he was going to miss my hard work there, and I like that it gives me the option. I'm the desired valuable here, so I'm in control of if or when or under what conditions I return. I think that's great.

Saturday January 4th was my last day of work. Even though I know that at times I'll miss it, I felt really good walking away from that place, leaving it behind me. Usually I carry work away with me. So now I'm on maternity leave officially. I couldn't be happier. As expected we got a lot of baby paraphenalia for Christmas, and now I have the time and energy to unpack it all, find a home for it, and well, nest. I'm definitely nesting. Eggbert's room is coming along nicely. I've assembled the Ikea furniture, filled the drawers with tiny tiny clothing, and started hanging up colourful pictures etc etc. I'm in my element. I'm loving doing this, and Max is loving watching me do it. Hopefully it isn't too long before this baby make it's appearance, because I'm ready NOW and I'm sure the waiting will be unbearable if it going on too long. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so organized?

2002-12-15T12:40:00.000-06:00

For the first week of December, if you make a real effort, you can ignore Christmas. Don't watch TV, go to the mall (or even the grocery store) or be social. You can stay in denial if you really work at it. And I did work at it. But eventually it became unavaoidable. I like this season because of family and music and time by the fire, but I loathe the commercial racket. Luckily for me, this year I was able to get my brain really organized so any shopping I had to do got done in a week and mostly without the mall. The majority of people on my "list" are getting homebaked cookies. That's so domestic of me.

Max thinks Christmas is going to be really fun for the next few years. And he's right, with a little kid at home Christmas will be full of wonder. This year we are spreading out our celebrations over about 10 days, in order to spend time with his family, both my families, and all our friends. Christmas Eve we are planing to host a little get-together of our friends and Christmas day we're going to the in-law's farm. We know most of what we are getting gift-wise. And it's all for baby. Soon we can fill that little bedroom with all the furniture and quilts and love.

I love to mentally fast forward and picture what our little girl will be like and all the things we will get to do with her. Reading together, builing snowmen, going to recitals. Getting gifts of finger-paint art to cover the fridge with and to display with pride on my desk. I'm looking forward to re-discovering and re-learning the world through her fresh eyes. Anytime I see little girls now I wonder how my daughter will be like them, how she'll be different. Will she want to try make-up and high heels? Will she be an environmentalist, lecturing us about our wasteful ways? Will she be quiet and thoughtful or a big show-off? How much of myself will I see in her? What secrets will we share?

2002-12-15T12:23:00.000-06:00

Even though I haven't gained any weight during weeks 30 - 32, Eggbert is still growing. My fundal height is still increasing at a regular rate. Strange how the body works. My glucose test came back totally normal, so that's a relief. The only minor concern that the doc has is that my hemoglobin has been falling. I guess it's not low enough that I'm considered anemic, but we apparently don't want to see it dip any lower. So in addition to the daily pre-natal vitamins, I've been instructed to add extra iron. That's simple enough, but it's disappointing because iron is notorious for being constipating.

More and more I'm finding that I think of Eggbert as a person separate from myself. I wonder about what she'll look like, what her personal preferences might be, what her patterns are, etc. Increasingly it's a baby inside of me, an entirely separate person that just happens to be hanging out in my womb. In my mind, pregnancy is less becoming a medical condition, and transforming into a state of waiting.

I am eager to meet this tiny life. I'm going to see my child, already with her own personality and spark. But mixed in will be little slices of me, of Max, of my parents. I'm beginning to understand some of mother-love, and why it is so strong.

2002-12-06T19:57:00.000-06:00

On the physical front:

I had to open my big mouth, didn't I? Not even 1 day after I had marvelled here about my lack of strech marks, Max pointed out to me that I had a web of very fine red lines criss-crossing the bottom-half of my belly. I hadn't noticed because I can no longer see that part of my anatomy without lifting and pushing flesh aorund, and contorting in front of a mirror. Not something I make a habit of. I'm not freaking out, but I don't like it. Since when am I so vain? It seems so selfish and small to worry at all about it, but I am somewhat bothered. I look forward to when they fade to silvery trails. Those I can handle more easily.

And I'm lactating. This has been happening a few weeks already, but I'd tried to ignore it. I'm sort of fascinated by it. My body is doing something it's built to do, but has never done before. It's fairly awesome. But I'm not yet acustomed to the wet spots I leave in my bras and on the bed. And although I make occasional attempts at figuring out how to express milk, I'm still a little shy about it. Sorry if that rates on the too much information scale.

And ... (drum roll please) ... I've been having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I've been having them for a week or so, but it was only last night that I figured out what the heck was going on. Our prenatal class instructor was describing labour contractions and Bing! a light went on. That's what I was experiencing. Like early labour. Low in my abdomen, sharp enough to take my breath away, but not for any duration, and only every once in a while. My uterus is having contractions! Wow.

2002-12-06T18:20:00.000-06:00

It's been an exciting and eventful week.

Monday night we went on a tour of the Labour & Delivery and the Mom & Baby wards of the only local hospital that does births. It's frustrating to have no choice about where this event will take place, but I'm glad to at least know what I'm facing when I get there. I feel much more relaxed about the giving-birth part of this adventure now. I think the ominous unknown is the biggest part of my anxiety surrounding this event, so the more of it we can de-mystify, the more relaxed and in-control I feel. Knowledge is power, or something.

The Mom & Baby ward is pretty standard hospital issue with too-bright lighting, metal everything and smell of antiseptic on the air. Other than their strong encouragement of 24 hr rooming-in, and the on-site lactation consutant I don't think I like the place. I'll probably get out of there ASAP: 24 hrs after birth, if all goes well. Plus, the prices are fairly prohibitative if you want to have a private room. Normally, I would probably cope with the four-bed wards and make do with curtains in place of walls, but then Max is restricted to visiting hours and I couldn't have him with me half the time. What's the point of him taking a week off of work when he can't be with me or the babe anymore than if he stayed working? I know I'd have the help of all the wonderful nurses there, but I'm terrified of being left completely alone with this child in the first couple of days. How am I qualified to take care of this helpless creature? I barely handle myself sometimes!

In contrast, Labour & Delivery was surprizingly un-hospital-like. The lighting was warmer, darker. The ward was quiet even though half the rooms were full of labouring women. Each room had a big armchair, lots of extra blankets and all the medical equipment stuff was tucked away in cupboards. There's a few tub-rooms, too. Not enough, and not big enough to actually deliver in, but somewhere to go and soak a while at least. There's a waiting room only a few steps away for all the people you want on-hand, but not viewing all your tender bits, and taking up space in the slightly cramped rooms. There was the usual bland artwork in the hallways, mixed with pictures of countless other Moms & Babes delivered here along with their letters of thanks to the staff. That could give me some courage and hope whent he going gets tough. The ward is walled-off from the rest of the hospital, so you can walk around and visit the waiting room where your people are, but aren't a public display to the entire hospital. Plus, that way I guess you aren't exposed to countless sick people. My favourite part was the mini-kitchen. They have a full fridge and freezer for our use, a microwave, kettle, toaster, and an ice-chip machine. I'm excited about the limitless supply of ice-chips. And it pleases me to know that I can do something as common as fix myself tea and toast when I'm in labour. Or I can make my sweetie do it. *snicker*

Last night, we went out for supper with one of Max's co-workers, Chris. This guy is Max's age, has a three year old, and we both like him. Over spanakopita (sp?) and greek salad, he decided it was time he shared with us the story of his daughter's birth. I wonder how different the story would have been if his wife was there! According to him, when his sweetie calls at 10 am to tell him to come home because she's in labour, he says he'll be home after work. But when he gets off work 8 hours later, he doesn't go home, but out for beer with her brother and father instead. If Max did that, I'd march myself down to whatever watering hole and cut his nuts off! But I digress. When she calls his cell phone to demand his presence at the hospital, her father says "Tell that girl you don't need to see her calving." I feel for this woman. So our buddy goes down to the hospital and hangs around for a while, but as she starts pushing, he gets queasy. Maybe it was what he was looking at. Over supper, he described it to us in colourful detail. Or maybe it was the 5 beer in his stomach. Then he proudly told us that he went downstairs to have a smoke and grab a coffee and by the time he got back to the ward it was all over! I couldn't believe this story. I guess some men do things like that, and I guess some women put up with it. Or maybe it really doesn't bother them. I'm not at all worried that Max would treat me similarly, but if he did not only would I be livid, but I'd be seriously questioning why I'm with this man. Of course, I know why I'm with this man. It's because his attitude is nothing like that. Chris kept insisting that the same will happen to Max, that he'll have to leave. I said Max is just a bigger man, tougher, you know? But it was all bluster. I couldn't help but notice the shade of green he turned when Chris was describing the birth. Any ideas of how to toughen him up?

2002-12-03T23:48:00.000-06:00

Note to self:
Do not send tired hungry pregnant lady to the grocery store by herself.

2002-12-03T20:07:00.000-06:00

Uh-oh. The super-itchy belly has begun. Stretch marks can't be far behind. I'm not horribly afraid of them since I can respect them as battle scars. But it is a little odd to know this process is re-shaping me in a permanent and outwardly noticable way.

One of Max's buddies was in town this weekend, and in his honour, our neighbours threw a big party. It was good fun and Max even got the night off of work! He hasn't had a Saturday night off in nearly 2 years. It was really good to be social and feel relaxed and carefree. It will be a while before I can be that unconcerned again, I'm sure. I don't intend to be chained to my child at every moment, but it will take a while before I can leave her with a sitter - even family - without fretting the entire time.

The best part of the evening for me was when Max was telling his friends about Eggbert's progress. He was so obviously thrilled, beaming form ear to ear and bragging to the other guys as he patted my belly "My baby girl is in there! Isn't that awesome?" He also told them he figured she must want out to meet us, since she keep kicking up such an enormous storm at night. Maybe she's just excited to hear her daddy's voice or something.

I know I'm gushing, but I feel so priviledged to be so thoroughly and unconditionally supported by him. And he's so damn cute! The other night he decided he should start teaching his daughter about the world 'cuz he wants her to be smart. He laid his head on my tummy and started whispering to her about how it's her job to learn as much as she can, and he even introduced her to the alphabet! How could I not fall more and more in love with such a sweetheart? Even if he is a bit silly!

2002-12-02T13:36:00.000-06:00

On Sunday morning I went to church with Mom. It's been a while for me. I was very moved by being there. I think maybe I should start attending regualrly again. I'm thirsty for the spirit in my life, and maybe church could help me find it again. The outing sparked an interesting conversation between Max and I. We were discussing if we should babtise our baby. We were both babtised (me as an infant, him older and by choice) in the same church. We agreed that infant babtism is much more for the parents that for the child, really. And since neither of us is a member of a church lately, it seems kind of silly to join just to have our child blessed. But there is something about the rite of passage that I'm attracted to. Introducing the babe to the community she'll grow up in, stating our intentions towards her... But I still think, at this point in our lives going to a church for that seems a little dishonest. I'm not sure we'll even get married in a church, so why bless our kid there? I don't know. I'm not really decided about this.

2002-11-26T20:07:00.000-06:00

"As unique and special as your pregnancy is, it can tend to lose its fascinating and compelling aspects to everyone but your mother and you about halfway through. And unfortunately, a pregnant woman’s need for attention is about as deep as the Grand Canyon. I hate to be so blunt, but it is important for you to remember, YOU DID NOT INVENT PREGNANCY, AND EVENTUALLY YOU WILL HAVE TO RESORT TO PAYING PEOPLE TO REMAIN CAPTIVATED BY YOUR CONDITION. Your friends have their own lives that will occasionally distract them from your crucial project."

- From The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy By Vicki Iovine

*giggle* So true. SoSoSo true! Even Max isn't terribly interested in my perspective these days. He's interested in the baby, but less and less fascinated with my experience. And just as there's getting to be more to complain about! I can't say I blame him.

The part he can't get over is all the movement. Most anytime we are sitting still together he can place his hand on my tummy and feel our little magic wiggling about. He's always asking incredulously "It's like that all the time?" Well yeah, almost. I think our little one is going to take after her Mom, who has never sat still five minutes in her entire life.

2002-11-26T20:00:00.000-06:00

Today I stumbled upon a webpage dedicated "to my mother; the soil that bore me, the water that fed me, and sun that warmed me". I almost cried. I am going to be a Mom. It's my job to become all of those things to someone. Everything I feel towards my mother - mostly a great deal of love, affection and gratitude, but also some hurt and resentments - someone else is going to feel those ways about me. That intensely, that easily, that importantly. We chose our friends, but we don't chose our parents. How will she feel about me?

2002-11-25T22:05:00.000-06:00

Next time Max can be pregnant.

I'm sure once I have my lovely daughter in my arms, I'll forget about all this, but currently I just feel yucky. Not horrible. Just uncomfortable and grumpy. So next time it's the man's turn to go through this stuff. He's more laid back and less irritable than me generally anyways. I'm sure he'd take it better. I feel whiny and impatient to get past this part and on to the buisness of motherhood. It will test me I'm sure. But there's so much to look forward to once she's out, and it feels like there's nothing to look forward to between now and then. Of course, that's wrong. There's our first Christmas together, and getting off of work, and the arrival of the baby furniture. That will all be wonderful. Yes, I'm looking forward to creating a space for this child. I have to keep reminding myself of these things, or I get dragged down by the day-to-day physical difficulties of being big and pregnant. Perhaps I'll have more compassion now for people with disabilities. It's not the same, but I think I have a better understanding.

2002-11-21T18:19:00.000-06:00

It's been a long stressful week at work and I still have two day to go until the weekend! I hope my boss has noticed how hard I've been working. I am coming home exhausted every single day, but satisfied that I've accomplished a great deal. Today we got audited, and that was tremendously stressful. We learned a lot, though, so that makes it worthwhile, right? Maternity leave is approaching. Six weeks until I plan to leave work. I like the structure employment brings to my days, and the sense of purpose. But the rest of it, I could do without. Today I was hauling a bunch of heavy boxes around the store, and it kind of hurt. I'm not expected to do that stuff, but I know that if I leave it for the boys to do, it won't get done anytime soon. And we've got big wigs coming to town next weeks and they have very high expectations. We can't really afford to put simple noticable tasks off.

Also on the work-front, Max's boss is finally back from his family emergency on another continent. Max was in charge for 6 weeks. I'm glad his time will be a little more free now. Perhaps he can get a few days off to de-stress. I'm hoping this means I will no longer wake in the middle of the night to the sound of Max yelling at his employees in his dreams.

Last week I went to the doc and learned that I've gained nearly thirty pounds. Thirty! I'm pretty surprised. It seems like a lot. But my doctor wasn't concerned, so I'm determined not to care. Pre-pregnancy I was on the slim side, so perhaps this is just an adjustment to be safe for me and babe. It's a wee bit unsettling, though.

Tonight Max and I attend our first prenatal class. I'm strangely nervous. I'm concerned that everyone else will be a lot older and wealthier than we are, and that I'll feel totally conspicuous and out of place. We like to think of ourselves and educated and middle-class, and that's how we grew up, but we're sort of too young for that. We've each got only 1 year of university, and our income level gives us a comfortable and happy lifestyle, but not a wealthy one. Not yet. We're working on that. The class we're taking is very in-vogue with the educated upper-middle class set. But who knows. Hopefully I'll find a woman in somewhat similar circumstances, and we'll click. I really need a girlfriend, and I'd most like it if she was a first-time mom as well.

2002-11-18T11:43:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it is still unbelievable to me that this is really happening. I'm pregnant, we are going to become parents. It's real. That hasn't stopped amazing me.

2002-11-15T17:24:00.000-06:00

Last night, during a long hot luxurious shower, I had a breakthrough in understanding my fears about giving birth.

I've realized that a smooth easy birth requires me to let go of my ego-self and hand over control to nature. This tremendous physical experience is not something I can control, so I have to be open to going where it leads me. If I let the power of the universe take me over, I will have plenty of strength and resolve to support me. I must be present in the moment, and ready to put my whole being into whatever the situation demands of me, but I must remove my own desires and ideas from the equation. I am there to serve.

The fear comes in when I consider the prospect of opening up that much and releasing my need to control. That makes me very vulnerable, and I'm afraid of what forces could come into control of the experience if I'm not on high alert. Finding my faith and trust in the process is easy. Finding my trust and faith in a medical establishment that likes to cut & drug is not. This, I think, is where Max has to come in. If I know that he will unfalteringly be my voice and advocate - standing up for what I want, not what the doctors want - then I can let go and trust that my back is covered. We need to talk more. I suspect he is more likely to trust what a doctor tells him without questioning that I would be. So I need to know where he stands. Tell him where I stand, how adamantly, and see how he responds. He's been consistently supportive of my choices and desires thus far in our relationship, so I don't imagine this will be an exception. I just need the reassurance that I won't have to defend or explain myself when it comes to the big day.

2002-11-12T16:35:00.000-06:00

Downtown stinks. It smells like exhaust fumes, stagnacy, sadness, and grime. Why have I never noticed that before? Not to say I used to think downtown smelled nice or something. But today I was able to experience new levels and nuances of gross. Could it be pregnancy is giving me a heightened awareness? Likely. I'm glad I only live in a city of 200,000. I'm sure there's a much bigger stink in a bigger city.

When I got off work today I walked the two miles to Max's work and dropped in to say hello before catching the bus home. This has been my ritual for sometime now, and I'm glad I'm still doing it, even in the cold of winter. It's the only regular excercise I get, so it's important to stick with it. But taking the bus all the way from work and skipping the windy walk is becoming more tempting with each snowfall.

2002-11-11T23:07:00.000-06:00

I've been procrastinating about cleaning up the house for weeks. Today Max and I put our head down and did it, together. It feels so good! After all was said and done it only took two hours of concentrated cleaning to get the place under control, and almost half of that was on the dishes. I sincerely wish we had a dishwasher. It's funny that I feel so satisfied to have a nice organized home. I guess I really am being domesticated.

2002-11-10T22:13:00.000-06:00

For all my efforts to be in control of what's happening to me and my child, this process ultimately happens to us. Not to say I can't be an active and contributing participant, but there is so much that is out of my control. Perhaps this aspect of pregnancy is a lesson in humility and grace and flexibility. All important skills as a parent, I'm sure. I guess although I can't control how things will progress and what challenges I might face, my job is to create a positive safe environment within which I am able to deal with any possibility.

2002-11-10T10:12:00.000-06:00

I went to a dance with Mom and her S.O. last night. That was fun. I've hardly gone dancing since I got pregnant, and not at all since I became noticably pregnant. It was a women's dance, so that was freeing. I was somewhat less consious of my awkwardness. I love to dance. Dancing is the only reason I ever frequented bars. It was a little strange, though to dance again. My body fits together differently than it used to. And it moves differently. Not only because of the weight that sticks out of my tummy, but I can notice a difference in all my joints. I guess my physiotherapist warned me about this, but it's interesting to actually experience it. I had fun, though. It was probably good for both Eggbert and I to get our hearts pumping a little. And I got to laugh a lot. That stuff is important.

2002-11-08T23:25:00.000-06:00

We're awfully organized about the impending arrival of this baby. Considering it's still three months away! In large part this is because all my attention when not at work has been focused on planning and preparing. It's not like the nursery is organized or something. Ha! But much of the stuff we need has already been bought or given to us, and the items that we don't already have are accounted for. My grandfather made a beautiful cradle. His parents are giving us a crib - changetable - dresser set from Ikea. Mom bought me a wonderful glider rocker. Dad is buying a playpen and a photo sitting for the three of us. The list goes on. The generosity and support of our friends and family has been really over-whelming. There's a lot of people who care a lot about us and this child. I feel surrounded by love. It's wonderful.

Not only are the major purchases accounted for, but Mom and I have spent a good deal of time searching out lovely baby clothes and on my own I've aquired bottles, recieving blankets, baby wachcloths, nail clippers, safety cabinet locks, shampoo/soap, brush & comb, a few books, etc. Max is complaining that there's nothing left for him to buy! There's still a few things. But from the must-have list, there are very few things not checked off. All things diaper: bag, pail, diapers, wipes, rash cream. A little tub. High chair. Portable changing pad.Other than that, our list is getting sparse. It's reassuring to me. We won't be caught off gaurd when Eggbert arrives. And I won't be forced to go searching for this stuff when out-to-here with child. So I can use my very-pregnant shopping energy for Christmas shopping. Yippee. (Perhaps the lack of enthusiasm is difficult to pick up in print, but I do not eagerly anticipate Christmas shopping.)

In other news, it's less than a week to my next doctor's appointment. At this one I get a diabetes test, if I remember correctly, and another whole round of blood tests. Hopefully this time I won't make a spectacle of myself by passing out in the middle of the clinic immediately after having my blood taken. This time Max won't be there to catch me.

A week after that appointment we start our childbirth prep class. I've been looking forward to that for a while. I desperately want to go on the hospital tour and get a better feel for what I'm getting into. And I'm hoping I can meet at least one woman I can relate to. There is no one else I know that's a current or soon-to-be young mother. A woman at work today was gushing about how the program I'm taking (offered by the YMCA) is supposed to be the best in town and how great the facilitator is. So that's encouraging. I'm not sure exactly what I expect to get out of this ten week course (pushing us awfully close to our due date) but at least it's something else I can do that feels constructive.

In organizing for this Major Life Event, I think I'm acting more like my mother than I have at almost any other time. The most Mom-like thing I've been doing is making lists.
- who to call when I go into labour
- what to include in the take-to-hospital bag
- a phone tree for once baby is born
- whom birth announcments should go to (I'm going so far as to preaddress envelopes. I only need the info to fill the cards out with!)
- what responsibilities I have at work that someone else needs to learn to do
I'm not this organized in real life. And I never will be again. I know enough about parenting to realize that with little ones this sort of detailed planning is likely a distant dream.

2002-11-08T22:33:00.000-06:00

I'm watching myself become a charicature of a pregnant woman. I'm starting to waddle, to hold the small of my back, to be short of breath, to groan everytime I bend down to pick something up. It's not really as bad as that, of course. But it feels like it. I'm becoming slightly that way, and I'm very self-conscious of it. I feel so conspicuous. It's comical. I'm only at the beginning of the third trimester, I complain about not being able to see my feet now. I can only imagine what is to come!

2002-11-04T09:37:00.000-06:00

Although together we created this life, and together we are going to become parents, and together we will raise this child, we are not pregnant together and we will not give birth together. Those are my responsibilities. He can do little more than stand by and watch. He's supportive, patient and interested, but this physical process excludes him. It's one of the few things that ultimately separates our genders. Normally I ignore those differences, dismissing them as unimportant. But he couldn't do this for me if he tried.

This is a unique opportunity to explore my womanliness. There is no better example of female strength and endurance. Of bravery and even power. I can feel the creative life-force flowing though me in a way it never has before. I am connected to a vast pool of love and strength from all the women before me. Again, I can feel only awe and wonder.

2002-10-31T17:04:00.000-06:00

My feet have begun swelling in earnest. Ick. I still have tiny feet, but they're all puffy and boy, do they hurt. Having a stand-all-day job is no fun with this problem! Despite the problems, I want to work as long as humanly possible. Max, however, is encouraging me to get off work a month (or more) before the due date. We would cope without the extra income, of course. But that's not the only reason I want to keep working. I imagine I'd get bored and lonely and agitated just sitting, waiting to go into labour. The last time I had an entire month without an external schedule was... umm... The summer before grade 11? Years ago, anyway. I don't amuse myself well. I'd either become a 'net addict or go nuts. Or both.

I want to do something really nice for Max. His boss is out of the country and he is filling in, and it's really stressing him out. He's doing a wonderful job, but he's working 7 days a week, and he's thinking about work so much that he's talking about it in his sleep. He's carrying a lot of weight at home, too. I'm tired a lot and not really doing my fair share of chores around here. But he picks up the slack with a smile and then asks me if there's anything I need. As if me sitting with my feet up while he makes supper then does the dishes isn't enough! It's not that extreme all the time. I'm not completely taking advantage of my 'delicate condition'. But I owe him. Big time. Any ideas?

2002-10-30T22:06:00.000-06:00

I'm crocheting a blanket for my baby. In general, I don't think it's strange for an expectant mom to do that. But apparently my friends (admittedly, mostly male) aren't yet thinking of me as a mother. I think a few of them nearly filled their pants, they were so shocked. I like to surprise people. And I'm finding it very relaxing to rock in my glider (thank-you Mom!) and crochet. I like creating something for Eggbert this way. I feel like I'm 'helping' somehow. And it isn't as draining as redecorating would be!

I wonder if my friends expect me to go back to how I was pre-pregnancy. Likely there's a few of them that do. But you know and I know that partying and such foolishness is not really fit for a Mom. I wonder who will drop off the face of the planet when Eggbert arrives.

2002-10-29T21:50:00.000-06:00

"Becoming a mother causes us to come to a full halt ... Stopped in our tracks, we are confronted with ourselves, as we really, truly are from the top of our heads to the souls [sic] of our feet. There is no polishing or refashioning allowed, no chance to hide behind well-rehearsed acting skills, no room for pretense or throwing blame around. This is it; this is what we have to work with. Here we have our own naked truth about ourselves, our givens and our potentials, ready to assert their influence on us as mothers and on our children.

"Self-scrutiny is typical of pregnancy as we try to grasp the interpsychical and interpersonal ramifications of motherhood. The biological and psychological changes serve as an invitation to take a good look at ourselves and ask where we stand on our chosen path in life. We come to ask ourselves difficult questions: Who am I and where an I going? How will motherhood affect me? How will I change and in what ways will I remain the same? How can I be a mother and be myself? ...

"We are in the midst of a spiritual birth, where life as we have known it is over, and the new life has not yet begun."

- From A Mother Is Born: Preparing For Motherhood During Pregnancy by Merete Leonhardt-Lupa ( ISBN 0-89789-353-0 )

2002-10-29T17:30:00.000-06:00

There is such a multitude of ways that becoming a parent is changing me. And it's only beginning! Perhaps I should have seen this coming. Giving birth (particularly to your first child) is a major life event, after all. Yet I was caught off gaurd by this. Is it as dramatic as a paradigm shift?

My new responsibilities give me a reason to "get my shit together". Things as simple as cleaning up after myself... I'd been slack and lazy for so long. But how am I going to teach someone else good habits without demonstrating my own? There is a new urgency in cleaning up my act. Not to imply I've magically transformed into the person I want to be, but I'm getting there, slowly. Now I have more desire to go back to school (and I'll have a lot harder time doing it), more motivation to get a 'good' job (at least one with some benefits). Suddenly I want to do all the things my parents have encouraged me towards. So perhaps in some way this is what I needed. A kick in the pants.

She's not even born yet, and my daughter is already becoming my inspiration. Maybe it's the hormones, but thinking about it has me misty-eyed.

2002-10-28T01:21:00.000-06:00

Sunday is my day to relax. I leave my pyjamas only long enough to take a shower with Max before he leaves for work, then I spend the day on the couch or in bed, reading, sleeping, watching TV. I excuse this luxury by saying that I'm pregnant and I'm tired and I need the time to recharge. While that is true, I'm probably more extravagant with it than I really need to be. But still, I do revel in it.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror today. All 25 weeks pregnant of me. My body is so different. My breasts are heavy and my belly round and full. It's pretty amazing to me that I am going to get more pregnant than this. But it's certain that I will. In the next three (and a half?) months, our little Eggbert is going to get 7 or 8 times bigger than she is now! Seeing myself like this, I feel connected. To all the mothers that have gone before me. To the tremendous creative life-force that is channelled through me. I had not forseen how this pregnancy would change the way I look at the world. I am both elated and humbled by this experience. Awestruck.

2002-10-26T20:54:00.000-05:00

I am scared. It feels (right now) like I am completely alone with this enormous reponsibility. Of course, I'm not. I have a super-involved super-dedicated hubby, I'm surrounded by a loving generous family, and a small group of tremendously positive friends. Yet there is a small significant part of this whole thing that is mine and mine alone. The labour and delivery.

I'm not scared of how we'll support this child because we have resources & tenacity & wit, we'll find a way. I'm not scared if Max leaves me because I know I'm emotionally strong on my own and don't need a man. I'm not scared of my child being high need because I rise to challenges and Mom is a early education professional and I don't see disability as overly terrifying. I'm not scared of the changes in my body because it's a small part of my self-image that is tied to my looks. But I AM scared of the birth.

It's not the pain, or people seeing me like that or anything. What I fear is... It's my own weakness, really. I am painfully aware that this is the one thing in this entire adventure that only I can do. There is no one else that can push this baby out of me. Period. I'm not sure I've encountered another instance in my life where it came down to me. It's so much pressure! I don't deal well with combinations of stress/fatigue/discomfort/pressure. It usually leads to a big meltdown with me sobbing uncontrollably and making a grand fool of myself. This is my nightmare. The only worse thing I can imagine is falling apart and having some well-meaning nurse or support person (ie Mom or Max) telling me to "pull it together". That infuriates me! Blind. Red. Rage. Which is not productive.

I can plan for this. Identify the warning signs of this and plan some helpful interventions. Figure out what positive things my support people could do if I get to the point of meltdown. And part of the solution is my attitude. This is a challenge, sure. But what a brilliant way to demonstrate to myself what I am capable of! This incredibly important responsibilty is put into my hands, and I will shine. I will give birth to a miracle. I won't do it alone, but it will be me that does it. And everyday for the rest of my life, I can look at that child and know how stong I am. Deeply rooted, powerful, earth-mother.

2002-10-24T17:33:00.000-05:00

Today I decided that I don't want to work anymore. I am sick of digging myself out of bed and dragging myself through the motions of the workday. My mind is on other things. Important things. Convincing myself to concentrate on paperwork or problem-solving takes a heroic effort, and I'm not sure it's worth it. It's not like I'm making a lot in my one-step-above-entry-level job. As staff supervisor, I'm supposed to be motivating everyone and I think I'm the least motivated of the bunch these days.

But at only 25 weeks into the usual 40 of pregnancy, it's a little premature to be saying sayonara. I'm in good health and my energy is still pretty high. My heart just isn't in it. I'd rather be wrapped up in a cocoon of comfort & home & my sweetie & concentrating on the life that stretches my belly. This seems to be an appropriate time to be self-centered. A large and demanding part of myself is becoming someone else. And that someone is my responsibility. Entirely.

In looking out for Eggbert's welfare, I am much more careful than I ever was for myself alone. It used to be if some smell was giving me a headache, I'd be annoyed but shrug it off as unimportant. Now I can almost see the deathly green in the air and feel the noxious poisons filling my lungs and coursing though my veins - and my child. That's awfully dramatic, and I'm aware it's all in my head. But if there's a smell that bothers me (often at work, since I work with chemicals) I do everything possible to get away lest it hurt Eggbert in some way.

Is this what it's like to become a mother? Being unreasonably concerned over every little thing? What I find most difficult is that it's so hard to know what is actually worth concerning myself with and what I can let go of. On the one hand, I'd like to err on the side of caution since the little one can't fend for herself... But I can't realistically protect her from every risky thing. Where does one draw the line? I have a feeling that I'll fight with this dilemma constantly as a Mom. Better get used to it now.

2002-10-23T20:13:00.000-05:00

The inner earthquakes are getting stronger. What started as a faint tickle like gas bubbles is progessing into bigger and bigger whacks to my insides. As all first-time mothers must, I am sure this child is going to grow into a dancer or a martial artist. Or at least be always wiggly. It's kind of bizzare to be kicked and punched from the inside. It doesn't (so far at least) hurt, but it remains surprising.

I've heard so many stories of later in the pregnancy when the movement becomes pronounced enough to knock something off your belly, and when other people can make out the outline of a foot. I don't know whether to be excited for that or dread it. My little alien child keeps growing...

2002-10-23T01:02:00.000-05:00

Our due date - the first thing everyone asks - is a bit of a joke. The ultrasound, my doctor, and I can agree this child is expected in February. Any more specific than that, and we cannot agree. I'm telling people Valentine's Day. Being in labour is NOT how I envisioned my first V-Day with Max. But it's a definite possibility.

What's with our obsession with arriving at some specific date anyways? This baby will come when she is good and ready. I must be prepared to welcome her whenever that is. She is already a part of our life, and becoming more so everyday. I intend for her transistion from inside my body to inside my arms to be interfered with as little as possible. Even if it's ten days past the due date my doctor arbitrarily selected, I do not intend to accept induction. (Of course that's easy for me to say at slightly more than halfway though this... by the end I may be ready to have her out no matter the means!) My own estimate is based on the lunar cycle - which my menstrual cycle has been solidly tied to since my first blood - and so I'm more likely to trust my own date than my doctor's. But no matter, I intend to be prepared for February.

If she's much earlier than that I'll still be working (!) and if she comes in March, my Mom and Dad are slated to be in the Arctic and Costa Rica, respectively. How convenient for them to be so unreachable during that most wearing and difficult coming home phase! I'm sure Mom will end up not leaving town, because she is entirely too invested in this pregnancy and helping things go smoothly for us and for this babe. I am, however, glad that I get along so well with the Mother-in-law, and I feel that she'll be there 100% for us as well.

2002-10-23T00:09:00.000-05:00

Even four months after the realisation that there was new life growing within me, the enormity of this continues to be shocking.