Weaned?

We decided to take the plunge. Tycho had been down to nursing once a day in the mornings for a few weeks, sometimes skipping a day entirely because I left for work before he woke up. And that last nursing session was becoming less and less fun for me. I couldn't get him to focus anymore. He'd suck for a minute and then get distracted, but don't you dare put that boob away, mama. Or he would stay latched while doing what I can only describe as baby yoga in my lap. I just felt so. Very. Done.

So we did it. I had to work overnight all week long this week, so it seemed to me like the perfect opportunity. On Sunday morning, while we nursed for the last time (very pleasantly, actually, I might add), I explained that he was a big boy now and after this he wasn't going to nurse anymore and he could have milk in a cup or water or a snack instead. No idea how much actually sunk in, but I feel better doing it. and I'm glad it was a planned thing so I could savor those last moments of our nursing relationship. And then, because I was out so late with work Kyle got up with the baby and let me sleep in. We've let him watch a movie every morning, because that keeps him distracted for a little while, and then once he's been up for a few hours he's fine.

It's been four days. It's been... really easy. Too easy? He has barely even asked and not protested at all when I've said no and my feelings are a little hurt even though this is what I wanted. I've been in a horrible funk and feeling anxious and depressed about nothing, and I'm taking it very personally, and it dawned on my when I was driving home from work this morning at 3 am that I am going through oxytocin withdrawal and OF COURSE I feel like ass. At least I know now that hopefully this dark cloud will pass and I'm not in need of antidepressants again or something. I hope.

Anyway. Weaned. Tycho is weaned. Probably. Weird.

Another week?

Why hello 41 weeks. I thought for sure I would be greeting you with a baby in my arms instead of in my uterus, but apparently not so much.

The last few days have been... tumultuous. To say the least. I made it 22 hours of Kyle's birthday being a good, un-irritating, scarce wife... but then I had a complete, sobbing on the bathroom floor nervous breakdown, obviously. I can't even really recount it now, since once you get out of these episodes it's really hard to remember where your head was when you were in them. But some combination of being totally tired of being pregnant, feeling like my body wasn't working right, total terror at the unknown of (dun dun dun) INTERVENTIONS that I hadn't really thought about because I was sure I wouldn't need them, something something hormones, emotional crier, yadda yadda.  Even though I can't (and have no desire to) get back into that headspace, I can tell you that it was a scary, dark place that was as bad as I had ever been, where my only coping mechanisms are really breaking things and hurting myself. I managed to refrain from both of these things, but yeah.

Kyle says it's like I'm going through the stages of grieving. Yes, except for that once I reach the acceptance stage I can't seem to stay there and head back through the cycle all over again.

Today I feel pretty good, not least of all because I lost my mucous plug/had some bloody show this morning. I know it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it at least goes to show that my body hasn't completely abandoned that baby-birthing project, as was my fear. Also, TMI, but SO. MUCH. MUCOUS. Really, I had no idea. I've also been having seemingly more significant contractions for the last two days, but they haven't really seemed organized enough to matter, so I'm mostly just giving my belly the side-eye and waiting for things to be more definite.

Today also marked my very last day at work. Possibly FOREVER, but at least for the next 12 weeks. Very strange. Tomorrow morning is my midwife appointment omg scary times, but I'm feeling pretty optimistic about it, what with recent developments. I feel pretty confident, at least for the moment, that things are not going to end all scary scary doctor hospital needle scalpel DEATH. Whee positive attitude! I try.

Overdue

I've been putting off writing this post,  as it feels a bit like admitting defeat, but here I am. Still no baby. My due date has come and gone and nothing really has changed much. Baby boy shows no signs of being ready or willing to come out ever.

40 weeks, this past Wednesday

I am.... barely holding it together. There are lots of tears. LOTS. I think I am dehydrating myself from crying so much, actually. I have a wicked headache this morning. I'm trying to rein it in and get more fluids in me, you know, in case I have the occasion to need to buttload of energy in the near future, but I'm really no match for my hormones and emotions right now. Yesterday Kyle decided that an hour of hysterical wife sobbing was a reasonable excuse not to go into the office and took me to lunch instead. And before he went out in the evening for baseball-related activities, he had me invite myself over for dinner at my parents. They thought it was hilarious that he was having them "babysit" me, but it was probably for the best, since I likely would have otherwise sat at home in the dark crying. Yes, I know I am pathetic.

I also got myself a Frappaccino yesterday afternoon and walked around the lake listening to my labor playlist, and it was very nice. 2.8 miles and it only took me an hour and twenty minutes. It was actually lovely, even though it started raining a couple times. The headphones means that no one talked to me and I got to get some alone time without it making me feel depressed and isolated and helpless. And you know, the walking thing, that's supposed to help, right? I think it's going to be a regular afternoon activity for me until baby boy decides to show up.

My sister is also back from France now. She got in Wednesday night. I'm happy she's here, of course, but I was really hoping to have a baby before she got here, so I haven't been as joyful about it as I perhaps should be. I love my sister, but she can be somewhat emotionally draining for me, and I'm spread thin already as it is. And she doesn't understand why I am so short and so angry and so quick to fly off the handle, that I'm not really ready to spend a lot of time with her quite yet. Unfortunate.

I really want to have a baby soon. If I make it to my next appointment on Thursday I have to have a non-stress test and we'll sweep my membranes and schedule an ultrasound and I really want no part of any of it. Please please please please please let me have a baby first.

to do

Hi blog.

I'm doing much better than I was the last time I posted. Still, though, this becoming a parent business is stressful. I've managed to feel pretty okay with the fact that I will soon have a baby, but the idea that I will soon be someone's mother is still hard to swallow. Yes, they sounds like the same thing, but really they are different, and the second is much harder for me.

I've finally stopped dragging my feet about finding a daycare, and called the local referral network today. We now have a list of providers to research and call and visit and omg. The consultant I spoke with on the phone was really wonderful and sweet, but that didn't stop me from crying when it hit me that someone else is going to be hanging out with my baby all day. Remind me not to wear mascara on my first day back to work. Or possibly ever again.

We also need to find a doctor for baby boy. We're leaning towards finding a family practitioner versus a pediatrician, especially since neither Kyle nor I have a doctor right now. Lots to do and only a few weeks left.

Up to here

Yesterday was a hard day.

It started early. I woke up just before 5am from a terrible nightmare in which I couldn't warn my husband that he and our baby were about to be drowned by a nefarious evildoer because someone reprogrammed his number in my cellphone to one that called a nursing home. It sounds completely ridiculous now, but I awoke in a panic, and every time I closed my eyes I would see it again, so I ended up just laying in bed crying for a while.

But then I got up and decided to compulsively scrub my bathroom for a couple hours. Me. Bathroom cleaning. At five o'clock in the morning. Very strange.

It was also very depressing for me, because good god is our house crappy. Two hours of cleaning and the best I could get it to look is dingy.  It's funny, because I am so not a cleaner, and tidy but dingy is normally quite alright with me. But not anymore, I guess. Perhaps nesting has set in after all. But what more could I do? So I took a shower.

Freshly clean with my clean towels in my clean bathroom I am rubbing body oil into my belly to keep it from itching, and the hand towel bar above the counter that is really only very precariously balanced there rather than actually being affixed to the wall spontaneously falls and knocks my bottle of oil everywhere and into my drawer full of hair care implements and I. Just. Lose it.

I sat down, naked and wet, on the edge of the tub, bawling so loud that I woke Kyle in the bedroom, across the hallway through closed doors. So loud that he actually decided to get up and investigate instead of ignoring it and going back to sleep. Which, if you know Kyle, means I was really fucking loud. And I couldn't tell him what was wrong because I could catch my breath between sobs and I couldn't stop crying. Finally, when he got me back to bed, all I could manage was "WE HAVE TO MOVE RIGHT NOW." He assured me that we will move and it will be okay and he would fix the stupid towel rack and I was hysterical because "the lease isn't up until August! I can't put a baby in that bathtub! We can't live here!" Insane.

So yeah. I managed to do a load of laundry, completely scrub my bathroom, take a shower, and have a nervous breakdown all before 8am. And then I had a full day of work ahead of me. Needless to say, I wasn't completely on my A-game. In fact, I felt on the edge of tears for most of the day. My girlfriends have assured me that losing one's shit over something inane like the wrong kind of chicken during pregnancy is totally 100% normal, so I feel a little better. I still don't feel good about our home or how we're going to be able to move when we are scheduled to have a two-week old baby or how we'll be able to afford a place any nicer than the one where we currently reside, but Kyle said he'd worry about it for me, and it seems like I'm better off right now letting him take that responsibility.

This morning brings better news. My sister booked her tickets home from France for the summer, and she'll be back in Seattle on my due date!  And her French boyfriend will be joining her a month later. Now I have two things to look forward to.

Cute and Tiny

This post will probably seem highly superficial, but for whatever reason this is really important to me: tiny baby stuffs. I've definitely passed some sort of milestone regarding bitty cotton things to clothe my son.

Things were starting to pile up. Gifts, mostly. I had no place for them. So there was a bag on my desk, some stuff on my dresser, a couple things in my underwear drawer, more in an otherwise empty suitcase in the hallway. I was starting to feel overwhelmed.

But I also wasn't yet feeling ready to deal with all the stuff. I don't think I had quite yet come to terms with the fact that in a few short months I'm going to have to be dressing a real live infant. Holy crap. Every time I would look at little sleepers and onsies at the store I would think to myself, "I don't need that." Yeah, pretty sure the exact opposite is true. And yes, I myself have purchased a few things, but impractical stuffs like twee motorcycle sweaters, more for myself than for actually clothing a tiny human.

Things clicked recently. I made the decision a while ago to avoid buying clothes in general because I know we'll be receiving a boat load of gifts, but I let myself go a little crazy, because it was the first time I was really ready to. A five pack of bodysuits helps me come to terms with motherhood, and yes that's silly, but it is what it is, and when I made these recent purchases I felt so much better about things.

However, in adding more stuff to my collection I think I reached my breaking point. Operation Organize had to go into effect. Step one was putting away all of my pre-pregnancy clothes. Talk about depressing. I have one half-filled drawer and a tiny fraction of my closet worth of clothing left. But it is what it is. Newly emptied dresser now has plenty of room for all this nonsense, so it is no longer cluttering up every room of my house or in danger of getting eaten/barfed on by a cat.

And I had a lot of silly hormonal fun going through all my tiny things!

Bunny slippers with rattles in the toes!

French dishes from my sister!

Itty bitty socks!

And now that everything is in one place I can pull things out and sigh to my little heart's desire. So basically, all the time. 

My drawer is surprisingly full already, though. I've got my first of at least four (four!) baby showers coming up in less than a month, and my mom's neighbor has a bunch of hand-me-downs for me to pick up. My mother specifically told me that said hand-me-down batch include two overalls. Because she knows how much I love tiny overalls. Overalls!  But yeah, we're going to have to find a better storage solution very soon.

b r e a t h e

I. Am. Panicking.

Seriously. What in the hell do we think we are doing, having a baby? We don't even have a savings account! (Well, actually we have three, but they collectively hold approximately twenty five dollars.) We're going to lose the baby under piles of laundry and cat hair and also possibly cat vomit. I mean, really. We are not grownups. And where the hell are we going to live? Pay no mind that our lease isn't even up until August (AFTER THE BABY IS SUPPOSED TO ARRIVE), and there's no way we can afford to cut out of our lease early. But like, we can't have a baby and no dishwasher and no laundry, what with the aforementioned piles of dirty clothing. But (see above re: savings account) it's not like we can afford anywhere better. Or anywhere better than a cardboard box once approximately 110% of my salary is going to daycare. And who doesn't get important adult things like a house before they have a baby? Who has a baby in a crappy rental apartment? Who? What first grader is going to invite their friends back to this piece of shit "home"? OMG, first grade? School? Should we start worrying about school districts and whether or not the local elementary is total ass? Because obviously we're not going to be able to afford private school! Why in the world did I have to be so incredibly selfish and do this NOWNOWNOW when clearly that was a terrible idea?

I know most of this is probably just pregnancy hormones and lack of good sleep and totally normal and everything, and that we'll hopefully figure out a way to make things work, but all these things are real worries for me. I mean we decided years ago that we needed a new couch and a new coffee table, and we still haven't managed to be in a financial position to make such a purchase, and the whole pregnancy/childbirth/baby thing is already going to cost us a lot of money that we don't have so I guess the baby is going to have to hang out on our disgusting old couch. At least baby won't be able to bump his or her head on any coffee corner tables, because we don't have one at all. I don't know. I think I really just need to cry and flip out and have Kyle hold me a reassure me and tell me everything is going to be all right, but as much as I love him, he's really not that kind of man, and doesn't understand this. He tells me it's going to be okay, but not in any way that makes me believe him or even really considered that these things might in fact be problems or that I'm not completely insane, and maybe hopefully I am but I really don't think so.

I already love this stupid little thing so much and I don't know how I'm going to be good enough.

Sixteen

Little Belly!

As of yesterday, we've made it to sixteen weeks. I'm not really counting the days so much anymore; the weeks are all starting to run together. July 13th feels like it's right around the corner, and there's so much to do! One thing I'm not loving about pregnancy is that there is always some decision to panic about. And boy do I panic. Because every decision is also the most important one I've ever had to make. This is MY BABY we're talking about. It's not like buying a new pair of shoes or getting a hair cut, or really anything I've ever had to do before, and the (mostly self-imposed) pressure of the decisions mixed with pregnancy hormones and my already overly neurotic nature is running me ragged. I cry a lot. Kyle plays the good husband and tells me everything will be fine, but honestly, I don't want to hear that everything will be fine unless that statement is accompanied with information proving it to be true.

The other day I was chatting with BFF (she is pregnant too, a couple weeks behind me, but shh, don't tell), and she mentioned that she had registered for her child birth class recently. Wait, what? Already? Oh yes, she says. Her midwife asked her what class she was taking at her 12 week appointment and that apparently got her going on it. What? At  MY 12 week appointment, with that very same midwife, I expressed concern (i.e. freaked out), about not getting things (birth classes, pediatrician picking, etc.) done on time, and she assured me that they would let me know at each appointment what I should be working on. Or not, I guess. So I start looking. The teacher most highly recommended by my birth center... well her class is already full. Shit. In the end we found a class that we are happy with, and we registered this afternoon, but OMG stress! However, I should tell you, that we are taking our birth class from none other than Penny Simkin herself. How awesome is that? I have now moved on to stressing about daycare. Oh, daycare. But my stress surrounding day care is probably more than enough for it's own post.

I'm also starting to feel quite a bit better about the whole maternity fashion thing. (Is it vain to talk about this so often?) I still don't quite look pregnant, unless you're looking from the exact right angle, and my posture is just so, and you knew what I looked like before, etc. etc. And feeling like you look fat instead of pregnant isn't any good. But I've been able to find a few more good pieces here and there and I don't feel like I am wearing the same tee shirt every day, so that is good. I still need to do a lot more work to build a functional wardrobe, but it probably be and ongoing process, especially since I'm sure some of the stuff that fits me now won't anymore later. BFF and I have a date this weekend to visit every maternity store in the Seattle metropolitan area, so that should be good, I think.

In other news, Kyle and I did venture to the local (well, it's really in another city) Babies 'R Us to start our registry. There are only maybe ten things on it as of right now, since we actually have to research car seats and strollers and bottles and what kind of baby grooming kit we want, but I feel better knowing that we've at least started it and that I've exposed Kyle to the sheer masses of stuff that we don't necessarily need, but that is available to make our lives easier (or perhaps more difficult) with a baby. And I'm slowly acquiring information and knowledge about car seats and strollers, so the volume of choices is starting to feel not entirely overwhelming, and I'm beginning to feel relatively confident that we'll actually be able to make a decision we feel confident before the baby turns two.

Sick Again

I had only just recovered from Parisian stomach flu, and now I have a nasty cold. I have been in bed all day today, so I feel much less terrible, but I had thought I would be okay at work yesterday, too, but all the standing up, and like, thinking was too much for my poor little body, and I ended up leaving several hours early.

Speaking of work, it's so hard lately. Not physically or mentally, but omigosh, I cannot stand being around all the baby clothes. I mean, I can stand it and they are adorable and I love them, but the cuteness combined with my hormones makes me all teary and useless. But now that we've announced the pregnancy I'm actually able to buy baby things without making my coworkers suspicious, so I went baby shopping. We make so few unisex items, which is probably good because I don't need to spend tons of money on impractical baby apparel, but shopping! It's what I do best! And I can't buy anything for me right now because I don't need maternity yet, really, but I don't want to buy anything that fits me now, but will only be wearable for a month. Anyway, this is what I got. It is adorable and I love it and actually making a baby purchase for the first time feels like a super big deal to me.

(Now you know where I work. I wasn't planning on sharing that information in my blog, but it's pretty much inevitable to come out because FASHION!!!! I don't think it's going to matter so much since all of two people actually read my blog, and I generally have pretty good things to say about my company in general, but blah blah disclaimer I don't speak for Gap, etc.)

I'm really relieved that my pregnancy is out in the open now. I definitely wasn't ready to tell until we did, but as soon as we had out ultrasound I wanted everyone to know.  It definitely feels awkward for me to tell people in person, but fortunately I didn't have to for most people. Just some coworkers that I'm not friends with one Facebook, and my Grandpa, and surely I can suck it up for him. Kyle called his grandparents, and we emailed our extended families, gave them a day to make sure they read it all, and then told everyone else over Facebook. I was all sweaty and clammy and anxious in the hour after my email and Facebook posting waiting for comments, but now it's all done, and people are excited and I feel great, and I hope I don't turn into that obnoxious person who can't talk about anything else because so few of my peers are in the same life stage as me (so I guess they aren't really my peers so much anymore?), but I probably will be and oh well.

Otherwise, things are pretty good. We had another midwife appointment last week as well, and got back the numbers from our bloodwork. Normal, of course. Awesome. However, what's not awesome is the results that came back from my last prenatal. I'm borderline low on iron, and like, pathetically dismal for vitamin D. They sent me off to find obscure liquid supplements, which I've been taking dutifully, so hopefully thing will start looking up in those departments.

Crazy Girl

So, scratch what I said about not barfing anymore. Still doing that, apparently.

The last few days have been interesting. My not-feeling-pregnant-anymore and worrying-baby-stuff stress came to the head the other night. I was just talking calmly to Kyle about how I was starting to feel overwhelmed with all of this stuff that I didn't know and how many options there are, etc., and all of the sudden the tears started flowing and I was freaking out. Hormones. Very fun.

Kyle doesn't know quite what to do with me in times like these. When we were first together, years ago (and hadn't really grown up yet), I had a habit of taking everything really personally and flipping out and crying and that didn't get us off to a super great start. I also just tend to be a highly emotional person, and when my emotions run high, often so do my tears. So recently I've had to tell him to ignore the tears and listen to what I'm saying, because otherwise it has a tendency to look to him like I am trying to be manipulative, when really crying is just my physical response to a high stress or high tension conversation. So he's been pretty good about just ignoring the tears and treating the conversation as he would without them.

This thing the other night, though, was different. I didn't start crying because our conversation was making me emotional, I started crying because I am a big crazy hormone filled ball of stress and honestly in this instance I needed him to see that I needed more than for him to just take what I was saying at face value and instead to calm me down and comfort me, but I have trained him too well to ignore my outbursts, so he asked me to turn off the light to he could go to sleep. And I continued sniffling in the dark for a good hour because I'm crazy, and, you know, PREGNANT.

I did manage to get across to him that I really need him to start thinking about things. It's really stressing me out that he's not worried about anything relating to this pregnancy or caring for a baby or witnessing another human being come barreling out of my nether regions. And it's because he doesn't have a freaking clue what he's getting himself into. Unlike, say, me, he hasn't spent a bazillion years reading the books and the blogs. He doesn't have a lot of friends with kids, and the ones that do he doesn't see or talk to very often. He has no idea that there's anything that he ought to worry about. I don't even care that he choose to worry about the same things that are stressing me out. In fact, it would probably be better if he chose his own topics so that he could calm me down about car seats and daycare, and I could help relieve his stress about say, the likelihood of me dying in childbirth .Because that's something I'm pretty not worried about. But at this point he's only really worried about money, but we're both always worried about money, baby or not, so that's not really different than it was before we got this party started.

He has vowed to begin doing some reading. I've given him Henci Goer's The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth, because the über-sciencey nature of it is right up his alley, and because even though he's been supportive of my desires to have a natural and low-intervention birth, I want him to be on the same page with me on the reasons WHY I want that, so he can better support me in getting what I (we) want and not calling for an epidural at the first sign of wife-in-pain, as one of our friends did for his natural birth craving wife. And He also has Penny Simkin's The Birth Partner, because, well, duh. That's all that I'm asking of him at this point. When he gets through those, we'll see if he's interested in anything else. At least we have a couple of 10+ hour plane rides coming up to work on all that reading.

Let's talk about...

SEX! No, really. Kyle and I haven't had sex since we found out I was pregnant. Well, we tried once, but it was uncomfortable for me so we stopped and yeah. And we only did it once between conception and the positive test, and I don't think you could count it as good sex, since I was too distracted by my boobs hurting to be paying attention. Pathetic, yes I know.

So anyway. When the hell are we going to do it again? I think Kyle's actually appreciated this time he's had without me bugging him, since my sex drive has normally been irritatingly high, but like normally if I don't initiate for a while he still does and it's been a month and a half and nada. I don't even feel particularly like having sex, really, but I miss the intimacy and I'm kind of afraid that we'll just never have sex again. Like we'll just forget that we ever liked it and how to do it and we've been okay for this long so why bother? Is that stupid? I don't know, but that's where my crazy, hormone-addled brain is going right now. And then I start worrying about how we'll ever have another baby. As if I needed to start even thinking about siblings yet. For real, I am a mess.

Maybe vacation will help. France in sixteen days!


In other news I am nine weeks pregnant as of yesterday. Actually it was more like HOLY CRAP NINE!?!?!?! WEEKS! Yeah. Still no pictures as I still have no camera cord. I am dutifully taking them still, though. I feel a little bigger this week, maybe, but in a lol, where'd my waist go kind of way. Definitely not looking pregnant yet. I did wear a maternity dress yesterday, but it's one that I bought back last spring just because I thought it was cute, and there's no way it will actually fit me when I am in fact needing maternity wear, so I don't think that counts. Oh well.

Where am I?

I still have no idea what is going on. I took tests every morning in Eugene, I got three negatives, two duds, and one inconclusive, but not in that order. And another negative when I got home. But my period hasn't shown up either. This means I'm not ovulating. This is bad. Lady Doctor said that with my IUD I was still cycling, so my cycle should be normal right away. I hope this isn't normal for me. It's been more than a month and ... nothing.

At this point what I want is just for my period to show up, so at least I can be charting and figure out WTF is going on in my body.

My husband is a philistine.

I tried to watch Moulin Rouge with him tonight. About 20 minutes in he claimed it was the third worst movie he had ever seen. I let him go about half way through because he was checking Facebook updates on his iPhone every three seconds, and it was terrible and distracting and I cried by myself.

I think at one point husband may have been a romantic, but I think that point was about five years ago. Whatever.

In other news, coming off of hormones sucks a big bag of dicks, as my roommate might say. Seriously. I didn't really imagine that I would even notice a change, considering how small of a dose they are, but this weeks has been trying for me. The first day I had a really strange headache and felt like I was in a fog. Then the past several days I have been grumpy as all hell, and in the mood to pick a fight with everyone. The other night I told husband it might be best if he went out with friends, because I was in such a mean mood, and then I think I complained that he didn't make me dinner.

I also had to go shopping for feminine hygiene products for the first time in approximately ten thousand years and I think it took me twenty minutes to pick out panty liners. I AM NOT USED TO BLEEDING FROM MY VAGINA. And I don't like it. Even though all I'm doing right now is spotting. God help me if I get an actual period. Looks like yet another reason I need to get pregnant.