Charlie's Birth Story

**Warning: This is very long and detailed.**

My induction was scheduled for 1 AM on June 8, 2009. I was ten days overdue. The plan was to call the hospital an hour ahead of time to see if a bed was available. We found out that there was indeed a bed for us, and so we got our things together and headed out to the hospital.

On the way I noted how nothing about our drive to the hospital was how I imagined it to be. I think I originally thought I’d be writhing in pain while Roy manuevered the car through 5:00 traffic. As it turned out, our ride to the hospital was only one thing that didn’t turn out the way I expected. There were still many more unexpected things to come.

We made it to the hospital and were checked in right away. Once escorted to our room, I stripped down into only a hospital gown and was hooked up for continuous fetal monitoring (Charlie’s heartbeat and my contractions). My first dose of Cytotec was administered at 1:50 AM.



The nurse examined me at 2:30 AM and informed me that doctors and nurses measure cervix progress differently. So where my OB had me down as 1.5 cm dilated and 60% effaced, the nurse said I was “one cm and a wiggle” dilated and definitely not 60% effaced. I asked when I could get the epidural and was informed that I had to be four cm dilated. This was kind of a shock to me since in our childbirth classes, we were told that epidurals were not administered based on cervical progress but on the need for pain relief.

I knew that inducing labor could take a lot of time, so at this point I decided to get some rest. Roy and I slept off and on for as long as we could. I had another internal exam at 6 AM and there was no change. However, at 6:30 AM, the nurse noted that my contractions were already two to three minutes apart. She thought that maybe we could skip the second dose of Cytotec and go straight to the Pitocin instead. In the end, she decided to go with the original plan and give me the second dose of Cytotec at 6:45 AM. I also had yet another internal exam, and I was two cm dilated.



My contractions became more intense but still manageable around 7 AM. I was pretty uncomfortable at this point, and I recognized that I was in a small amount of pain, but I was still able to answer emails and watch some TV. I had no idea about the level of pain I would end up experiencing. Looking back on it, I think my approach to labor and delivery was a bit naive. I always told myself that childbirth was something that had been done for thousands of years by billions of women and that one way or another, the baby would come out. I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about pain management or anything. I always figured that I would just get the epidural and that I’d be fine - of course, I’d also been relying on misinformation about when epidurals could be administered. That really came back to haunt me later.

At 9:30 AM, the on-call OB came in and introduced himself. He gave me another internal, and I was still at two cm and 60% effaced.

Once the Pitocin was hung and began dripping at 9:45 AM, it didn’t take very long for me to begin experiencing some awfully painful contractions. I tried really hard to be brave at first, but as the hours wore on and I progressed really slowly, I began to not hold back. The pain was awful. It was, hands down, the worst physical pain I have ever experienced. I yelled. I screamed. I cried. I begged for help. Even though I was given IV meds, I was still in horrible pain. Roy and my nurse tried desperately to calm me with every contraction. Roy held my hand through every single one of those awful things. It didn’t matter if he needed to go to the bathroom or eat or just have a moment to himself. Once he heard me whimpering and reaching out for him, he would quickly make his way to my side and hold my hand. He quickly proved himself to be an amazing labor coach, and he only got better the uglier things got.



At 12:30 PM I had another exam and was three cm dilated. At this point I was nearly out of my mind because of the pain. I never thought I would get to four cm so I could have the epidural. I was crying or screaming (or both) through every contraction. It was awful. I watched the clock a lot, although at this point time began to be irrelevant: each contraction felt like a miserable eternity.



Finally, at 2:00 PM I was examined and told that I was four, almost five, cm dilated and could now have an epidural. There was some waiting involved, but I have to credit the hospital staff for not making me wait too long. I was completely out of my head with pain at this point. It was around this time that my mom and mother-in-law walked into the room and I told them they just could not be in there right then. (I was really disappointed that they were not the anesthesiologist coming to give me my miracle stab in the back.) They went out to the waiting room, and once the anesthesiologist came in, Roy was sent out of the room. The anesthesiologist expressed some concern about giving me an epidural since I have scoliosis, but at 2:45 PM I got my epi.

Unfortunately, there was trouble in paradise. The epidural only took on my right side, and so I could still feel everything on my left side. The pain was much more manageable, though. The nurse had me lay on my left side with the hopes that the epidural would flow over to that side and help ease the pain. And she was right. It worked! I was very encouraged. My mom and mother-in-law and her partner were able to come in and spend some time with us.

At 4:15 PM my catheter was inserted. I was examined and discovered to be five to six cm dilated. The doctor came in and broke my water at 4:25. Things went downhill very quickly after this.

I rolled back over onto my side, and in no time at all, I began to feel the contractions again. I knew that breaking my water could make the contractions much more intense, so I chalked my pain up to that. I felt pretty confident that the pain would become more manageable again in time and with more of the epidural coursing through my system. But after a couple of contractions, I found myself at the point where I was calling for Roy to coach me through the pain. I started crying and saying that I couldn’t go through all that pain again. Roy alerted the nurse about my pain, and she couldn’t figure out why I was still feeling everything. She had the anesthesiologist come in, and he discovered that the epidural IV became detached and had leaked all over my hospital bed (this probably happened when I turned over to have the catheter inserted.). He reattached it and said it should be working again in five minutes and that he’d come back to check.

I don’t know the exact times all that happened, but I do know that it was still light out. At 6 PM, a new nurse took over. She, along with Roy, held my hand through each contraction. Both of them urged me to relax, pick a focal point, and breathe. Sometimes I was partially successful in doing this, but I almost always ended up screaming, crying, or cursing (or all three). The pain was worse than I could have ever imagined. It was so bad that I began to beg to be put out of my misery. I couldn’t even think about Charlie and focus on him as my inspiration. The pain was just that bad. I felt certain that I was going to die.

With the pain eventually came intense pressure. With each contraction, I felt like I had to take the world’s biggest crap. My nurse kept telling me to fight the urge, but after awhile I stopped fighting it and just starting pushing. It was the only thing that brought me any kind of relief whatsoever. I kept asking for the doctor, and the nurse told me that he was performing a C-section and would come by once he was done. When he finally did come by, he noted my pain and said he’d have the anesthesiologist come by.

The anesthesiologist did come by and tried a different kind of epidural. It didn’t work. The nurse gave me some more IV meds. They didn’t work. She checked me and I was seven to eight cm dilated and 100% effaced. I felt a shred of hope at this point, because I only had two cm left until I was fully dilated and would be ready to push (even though I was already pushing). I had a glimmer of “I can do this,” but it ended up fading away as the pain and pressure intensified. I was checked a couple more times and my progress had stopped. I was beside myself.

I kept asking for the doctor and was told that both he and the anesthesiologist had gone home. So we waited. And I screamed and cried and begged for relief. And finally, after what seemed like forever, the doctor came in and talked to me about how I hadn’t progressed in awhile. He said that that my cervix was swollen and I probably wouldn’t progress any more. He also said that we could wait it out and see what happened or we could throw in the towel and do a C-section. Without a moment’s thought, I opted for a C-section. It was explained to me that the best thing would be to put me under general anesthesia for the surgery rather than try to place another epidural.

For the first time all day, things moved very quickly. My mom, mother-in-law, and her partner came into the room to gather our stuff and hold it for us in the waiting room. While they were in our room, they reached out to me and were extremely supportive. (Meanwhile, I was still crying and screaming.) Their presence, though brief, made a huge difference; it reinforced the notion that there were people on our side.

The next thing I knew, I was being wheeled out of the room and down the hall. It was very alienating and scary, because at one moment Roy was by my side and the next I was screaming through a contraction on my own in the hall of the L&D ward. They wheeled me into the OR and began doing all kinds of things to prep me for the C-section. I was still contracting like crazy and still begging for reprieve. Finally, a mask was placed over my face, and one of the nurses put a couple of her fingers at the base of my throat. I was staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell was going on.

There was no fade out and fade in here. It was like a jump cut in a movie. I came to and found myself staring blearily at a man holding a baby about fifteen feet away from me. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was Roy and that he was holding Charlie. This was, without a doubt, the most surreal moment of my life.

Roy walked over to me and showed me Charlie. I think that I was crying a bit. Even though I was in a lot of pain from the procedure, I asked if Charlie could be placed on my chest. He was. And mother met baby at last.



I honestly don’t clearly remember those moments when I first held Charlie. I do remember thinking how beautiful he was and how I just couldn’t believe that he had finally made his way to the outside world. It’s one of those moments that I just will never be able to put into words. It was extremely emotional but also clouded by the entire day’s events.

We spent a little more time in the recovery room and then were taken up to the postpartum ward. Right when we got there, the phone started ringing. It was my friend Jessica wondering what the hell was going on. (At this point, it was after 11 PM, and I hadn’t updated anyone in hours.) We spoke briefly, and then I was put in a new bed and Charlie was given to me. I nursed him a little, and my mother-in-law came in to see him.

Needless to say, Roy and I were exhausted. I asked the nurse to take Charlie for the night because we were just so out of it. I thought I would fall right to sleep, but instead I was up for most of the night. I think I was just wired. I rang the nurse around 4:30 AM and asked her to bring Charlie back. I was missing him. He roomed in with us for the rest of our hospital stay.

We were in the hospital until Thursday (Charlie was born on Monday night). I had to stay in bed for 24 hours after the C-section. They removed my catheter on Tuesday night, and I managed to make it to the bathroom on my own with Roy’s help. On Wednesday morning, also with Roy’s help, I was able to take a shower. I was shocked at the state of my body. I had adhesive, not to mention betadine, all over my stomach and upper thighs. My stomach was kind of saggy, but I still looked about four months pregnant. I had marks everywhere that I wasn’t sure about. It was all very strange.

After the best shower ever, I felt almost human again. I also put on makeup that day and it made me feel a million times better. Roy and I decided to walk the halls that afternoon, and once we did that, I was completely over being in the hospital and was ready to go home. That night, we left Charlie with our nurse for a bit and walked to the bottom floor of the hospital. (We were both going stir crazy being in our room, and taking Charlie out of the ward was not an option.) It was slow going, as I had to kind of shuffle along all hunched over, but it was progress.

On Thursday, both Charlie and I were examined and discharged from the hospital. We drove home and began our new life as a family of three. My mom had been there the entire time we were gone and stayed for a few more days helping us get adjusted. I got to rest a lot, which I really needed.

My body is slowly returning to its pre-pregnancy state. I am still bruised from the IV I had during labor and the first day afterward. I still have some betadine and adhesive on me. I still have stitches, and my incision is still painful sometimes. But I have no more heartburn, swelling, or excessive thirst and appetite. My hands and feet are no longer in constant pain. I have lost 25 of the 30 pounds I put on while I was pregnant. My stomach is very soft and flabby, and I have to wear granny panties because of my incision, but overall, I am really happy to have my body back.

So that, my friends, is my very long birth story - with some general recovery details thrown in. I have deliberately left out how I feel about everything that came to pass to bring Charlie into the world, but that is definitely something I will explore in a later post.

If you got this far, thanks for hanging in there. More to come later!

A-Birthin' We Will Go...

We are leaving to go to the hospital soon so I can be induced so we can (hopefully) bring home our baby boy. I say "hopefully" because I am afraid that the induction will fail and they'll tell me to come back in a couple of days. I haven't really been feeling right the past couple of days, and I'm pretty sure that I'm having real contractions. I might even be in early labor at this point - it's really hard to say. I have been really uncomfortable, though - but I wouldn't say that I've been in pain.

My birthday was low-key but great, and it included a bracelet from Roy, a nice lunch at Citrus City Grille, a trip to the movies to see Up, a long nap, and then the usual Sunday night family dinner with gifts (yay!) and chocolate cake (yay!) as added bonuses. Thanks to everyone who emailed, texted, called, and commented to wish me a happy birthday - you guys are simply fabulous!

There aren't a lot of pics from today, but here are a couple that I like:





I just love my kitties!

I've been a big ball of nervous energy since getting home from family dinner. I've been doing laundry and dishes and making sure that we have everything we need and that everything is clean. When we walk back into our house again, everything is going to be different. So right now I'm taking a moment to soak things up as they are. It's a good life I've got and one that is going to become even better once Charlie makes his entrance into the world. I am so excited!

Here's Charlie's last picture in utero, taken on Friday. It's a profile shot, and you can see his hand near his mouth:



Thanks for sharing in this journey with me. I'm sorry if I've been an insufferable bore this whole time with all the pregnancy posts. But truthfully, the last 9+ months have been nothing short of amazing, and well, I just like sharing.

I'll update as soon as I can - hopefully with some pictures of our outside baby.

Watch my belly grow...

On September 24, 2008, I found out I was pregnant. I was four weeks and five days along at that point, and even though I didn't see any drastic changes in my belly for awhile, I started taking pictures that very day. I'll spare you all of the pictures, though.

4 weeks, 5 days



9 weeks



14 weeks, 5 days



18 weeks



21 weeks, 1 day



25 weeks



27 weeks, 6 days



30 weeks, 5 days



34 weeks



36 weeks



39 weeks



41 weeks and 30 pounds later (and hopefully my last belly pic for this pregnancy)



It surprises me to say this, but I'm going to miss my baby belly.

And here's a little bonus - a video about second pregnancies from Momversation. Even though this is my first pregnancy, I could relate to a lot of this video, particularly people's questions about "You're aware that has caffeine in it, right?".

Just thought I'd share, as it made me smile.



Thanks to everyone for your supportive comments throughout my pregnancy, especially over the last week. I'm excited to (hopefully) meet Charlie tomorrow, although I also realize that I could have a long labor and not meet him until the 9th. I hope to be back later on tonight with a birthday recap - thanks for all the birthday wishes as well.

Things I Don't Want

1) I don't want to turn 30.

Last year, when I turned 29, I had this vague notion in my head that went something like this: "Hey, next year I'm going to be 30. How 'bout that?" When I found out I was pregnant and due at the end of May, I was pretty sure that my 30th birthday was going to end up being overshadowed by having a baby. And sure enough, I was right.

This whole time I've been thinking of my 30th birthday as a possible day that Charlie might be born or as a day when I would be so busy caring for him that I wouldn't really have the time or energy to absorb being 30. I guess I really believed he would be born by now; I am disappointed that he hasn't been yet, and I am even more disappointed that we probably won't end up sharing a birthday (as weird as that probably sounds).

So, here I am, turning 30 tomorrow. Charlie is still an inside baby, which means that we can probably do some celebrating. I have no idea what I want to do or what I want. I have no idea how to feel about leaving my 20s behind. We're talking ten years of major pain, major joy, major growth, major realizations. In so many ways I feel that no decade of my life can possibly compare to this one - I have watched myself grow and change in ways that I never would have thought possible when I was 20. But I also know that I'm young and have so many more decades of life to experience.

As I leave my 20s, I am still kind of haunted by the same things that plagued me as I entered this decade. There are things that I haven't "gotten over," but I also believe that there are some things that you just can't or don't get over. I've managed to make a space for these things in my life instead. It doesn't mean that they control my life, only that they are undeniably a part of me. I will probably always have these issues. One of the greatest things that I learned in my 20s is that it's okay to have problems - we all do - and this is one of those things that binds us together as human beings.

When I think of myself as being 30, I don't think of myself in terms of being old. I just want this next decade to be as dynamic as the last. I don't ever want to stop growing or thinking or wanting. I want to continue to evolve. When I turn 40, I want to look back in amazement on my 30s and say, "Wow. What a life I've had." Because that's what I'm doing right now, as I turn 30.


2) I don't want to be induced.

Last night I realized that not only do I not really want to be induced, I am also pretty afraid of it. It happens every day on every L&D ward in the nation, I'm sure, but honestly, I just don't really feel emotionally prepared for it. My whole pregnancy I have been pretty lax about the whole labor and delivery thing. I've always had in my mind that any woman can give birth - if a vaginal delivery doesn't work, there's always a C-section - but the bottom line is the doctor always makes sure that the baby comes out.

I think a huge part of my fear comes from the fact that my OB will not be delivering Charlie. I know this kind of thing happens, but I really didn't expect it to happen to us. He won't be on call again until June 16, and I'll be damned if I'm still pregnant by then - they wouldn't let me stay pregnant that long anyway. When I found out this bit of news earlier in the week, I simply could not shake it off. At first, it was a WTF?! kind of indignation that I felt, but now it's morphed into a full-blown sadness. I feel absolutely cheated by the fact that this person that we've developed a relationship with won't be there to deliver our baby. I can't even explain why, because I know that the nursing staff is much more present and is much more a part of the process than the doctor. Still, I wanted my OB to be the one to catch Charlie as he comes sliding out of the birth canal - no matter how routine it is or may be to an OB, it's not routine to me. I don't want a perfect stranger delivering my baby. I am so sad over this; I just can't help it.

I feel like I don't know what to expect now. I trust my OB and was pretty willing to just go with what he thinks is/was best, but now my whole birthing experience is going to be in the hands of some doctor I've never even met. I am kind of livid about it all. I can't help but wonder now if I haven't put enough thought into what I want from my birth experience; I have been perfectly willing to have a "normal" experience since it's my first time. I figured that I could always adjust things as needed for the next baby - and I'm sure I will do that. But now I'm feeling panicky. Really panicky. Instead of looking forward to my birth experience, I am, quite frankly, dreading it. It's hard enough that I am going to be induced, but to be induced and have my experience be overseen by some doctor I don't know? Let's just say that obviously I am having a really hard time with it.

I'm sure I'll get over it, but right now I feel like I am grieving a huge loss. But I should have known that something like this would happen, since the best-laid plans have this habit of falling apart when you least expect them to.

The best news, though, is knowing that no matter what my birth experience is like, no matter what doctor shows up in the delivery room, at the end of it all, Charlie, Roy, and I will be together.


3) I don't want to be controlled by my own limitations.

My family is painfully dysfunctional. It's something I seem to conveniently forget until I spend any amount of time with them. No matter how old I get, there are things that just never change. And then I realize (over and over again) how emotionally exhausting these things are.

One thing that being a member of my particular family has taught me is that we do indeed have limits - but at the same time, we are only as limited as we let ourselves be. Life seems to have beat down my family in a way that some members of it just can't or won't recover from, and I find it just as heartbreaking now as I did when it was actually happening. It is so hard to watch people you love let themselves become negative and bitter and sure that they will fail. I almost want to walk away sometimes and never look back. But I never would. Because these people, no matter how freaking sad they are, no matter how much their sadness wears on me at times, are people that I love - and will always love.

I just don't want to be like them.

(Note: I'm being super duper general in this section even though the family members I'm referencing don't read this blog.)

****

So there you have it: my list of current things that I don't want. Obviously, I'm in a sad place right now, but I guess it's to be expected, what with the pregnancy hormones and being overdue and all. I don't think I could have ever suspected how much being overdue would affect me emotionally. I am kind of a basket case sometimes.

Come on, Charlie! Give your tired ol' mom a break. Please?

41 weeks

I am now one week overdue, and I swear this has been the longest week of my pregnancy.

Belly-wise, not a lot has changed.





And my hands and feet still look the same (swollen).





And there is still no indication that I'll go into labor anytime soon. The hope that I experienced earlier this week when I found out I was 1.5 cm dilated came crashing down around me today when I went back to the doctor and found out I'd made no progress from that. While I know things can change in a heartbeat, I am losing more and more hope that I will go into labor on my own. I am not thrilled about being induced, because I would much rather not be pumped full of drugs and regulated to a hospital bed for my entire labor.

However, we have scheduled my induction date for Monday anyway. We just think it's the best thing to do at this point, even though it's not the best case scenario. I still have a shred of hope that I'll go into labor on my own before then, but I won't be surprised if I don't.

One thing I am grateful for is that we might be able to celebrate my birthday on Sunday by doing something fun. I'm going to be 30!

Today I wore Crocs.

This is a completely unprecedented event, and one I swore would never happen. But my mom totally blindsided me and let me try on her awesomely comfortable flip-flops today. Little did I know that they were Crocs.



When I realized they were Crocs, I had a total WTF?! moment. Seriously. I hate Crocs. They are ugly beyond reproach. I make fun of my sister-in-law (in good fun) for wearing mary jane Crocs. But honestly, my weary feet loved my mom's Crocs. I wore them all day.

In other news, yes, I'm still pregnant! Roy and I have decided that no matter what happens at our appointment on Friday, we are going to go ahead and let them induce me whenever they are able to fit me in at the hospital. I think going a week overdue is plenty. We've been walking a lot, and I'm bouncing on my exercise ball as I write this. So I've been making a good effort to get things moving on my own. But I honestly can't wait anymore. If I go on my own before being induced, great! That's the best case scenario here. But at this point, I am ready. I am over my emotional yaya's from yesterday, I am prepared as I can be, and in the last week or so, I have gotten to be pretty damn uncomfortable. The pelvic and abdominal pressure is insane. I truly feel like Charlie is going to punch through my stomach sometimes. I can barely get out of bed on my own. I feel huge. I am ready to meet this kid already!

And speaking of Charlie, he is definitely his mother's son. I have been trying to catch his antics on video all night, and as soon as I start filming, he stops using my stomach as a punching bag and gets really quiet. Crazy, stubborn kid. I'll keep trying, though. Because I'm stubborn, too.

State of the Cervix Address

My fellow people-who-wait:

Last night sucked. I made my new discovery and spent the rest of the night dealing with three overly hyper kitties, in addition to my constant need to go pee. I was seriously grouchy (and exhausted) when I woke up this morning.

When Roy and I got to the doctor's office, we were informed that we didn't have an appointment in the system. Apparently our appointment was for the 4th, but it was written on our reminder card as being on the 2nd. I kept it together, but for a second there I thought I would dissolve into a million anxiety-ridden pieces of Leslie. There was absolutely no way I could wait two more days to find out if I'd progressed at all.

Luckily we were able to get in and be seen by the doctor. I had another internal exam, and this one hurt like a crazy bitch. I swear it felt like my doctor had his entire arm inside me. But I was duly rewarded when he announced that my cervix was actually 1.5 cm dilated! My doctor had already had one of his nurses call down to L&D and see if they could get me in tomorrow to be induced. We found out that yes, I could start the induction process tomorrow if that's what we wanted to do. We also found out that while my cervix was a little more favorable, the progress wasn't optimal and the induction could fail as a result, leaving one of two outcomes:

1) a C-section, which I am not adamantly opposed to but would like to avoid if at all possible
2) sending me home after the failed induction and trying it again another day, which I am adamantly opposed to - I can think of nothing more depressing than being trapped in a hospital bed for 12+ hours pumped full of drugs and then leaving the hospital without Charlie

With this in mind (and since I had made some progress in five days), Roy and I decided that the best thing to do is to wait it out just a little longer and let nature take its course. We will go back in on Friday when I'm 41 weeks, and we'll have the amniotic fluid checked as well as an NST done (not to mention yet another lovely internal exam). All these things will help us develop our final game plan. My hope is still to go into labor on my own, but if that doesn't happen, I am willing to be induced on or after Friday. As of right now, I don't have a good enough reason to justify induction, not even for my own sanity (which seems to lessen with each passing day). But I am okay with being induced after 41 weeks.

After my appointment, I was very emotional and cried quite a bit. While I knew this appointment would be eventful, I wasn't prepared for the emotional implications of having to make this big choice. I kind of wanted to go ahead and be induced because I am ready to get this show on the road. I'm tired of being in Limbo Land, and part of me is tired of being pregnant. But I also didn't want to be induced because of the reasons I listed above - and because I think part of me is not entirely ready to let go of being pregnant just yet. I am so totally ready to meet Charlie, but the future that stretches before me freaks me out a little bit.

I had a massage after my appointment, and it did me a lot of good. I got to relax and then came home and took a quasi-restful nap. I am feeling emotionally okay now. I know that it's only a matter of time before I meet my baby, and in the meantime, I'm going to get some things done and enjoy my last few days of having Charlie inside.

(I will, of course, be giving my cervix hourly pep talks.)

Streeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch.

Tonight I discovered my first stretch marks. Fuck me running. I can't believe that they are just now showing up, when I'm 40+ freaking weeks pregnant - shame on me for thinking I could beat genetics.

Anyway, they are on the underside of my belly, and they aren't too terrible, and there aren't too many of them (so far). But I haven't been able to fall asleep since I discovered them. My body has been forever changed by this kid, which isn't a bad thing - but now I am even more ready for him to make his appearance. I feel like I've been pregnant forever.

I am so incredibly anxious about my doctor's appointment tomorrow. I can't help but feel that I will get the same news that I've gotten the last four times I've been checked: no progress. I am still feeling Charlie high up, so I still don't think he's dropped completely. Sometimes babies never drop at all, sometimes they don't drop until the mother is in labor - so it should be interesting to see what happens.

I am getting restless - and a little tired of being in this holding pattern. I just want to meet my baby. (And not get any more stretch marks. Yes, I'm shallow.)

Yes, I'm still pregnant.

"Are you still pregnant?"

I get this question a lot every day now. It rivals "how are you feeling?" and "are you excited?" and "are you ready?". I guess that's to be expected when your due date was in May and it's now June (the very wee hours of June, but June nonetheless).

Anyway, yes, I'm still pregnant. I'm feeling good - I feel lucky to be feeling this good. Yes, I am totally excited, and yes, I am totally ready. I still have things to do, but most of it is busy work.

My mom flew in on Friday, and the three of us (her, Roy, and me) had a good weekend together. We haven't really been doing anything "special," but just the fact that she's here is special enough. We've been eating at home a lot, walking around a fair amount, and just soaking in the great weather. (It's been pretty cool the past couple of days.)

My mom and I had some time to talk about mothering, and I was surprised to hear that she has often wondered if she comes across as being distant. My mom and I are very different; she is an introvert, and I am an extrovert - and I know she thinks I'm crude and zany, and I tend to think that she's conservative (not politically) and overly unsure of herself. But she has always been supportive of me and has never been distant with me. I've never had to guess how she felt about me. I've always known that she loves me.

This is the kind of mother that I hope to be. I don't agree with all of my mom's parenting choices, just as she didn't agree with her mother's parenting choices. But really, to know that your mother loves you no matter how loud you burp or what disgusting things you laugh at is truly a blessing.

(Speaking of disgusting things to laugh at, check out the 8 phases of dating. Actually, I don't know if this falls in the realm of disgusting, but I do know that it's hilarious.)

Anyway, it's 2:57 AM right now. Sadly, being up at this hour has been a reality for me for the past couple of months. I haven't had a good night's sleep in about that long. I often find myself lying in bed just thinking or surfing the web looking for answers/entertainment. Or listening to Roy breathe. Or walking to the bathroom to go pee. Recently I've taken to middle-of-the-night baths. They often relax me to the point of putting me back to sleep until the next bathroom break. I have pretty much lived in the bathtub throughout my pregnancy. I can't help but wonder if it's a sign I should pursue a water birth in the future.

One thing I do know is that I need to get off the computer now and go take that aforementioned bath and think more random thoughts. I'll be back tomorrow with an update after my doctor's appointment.

40 weeks

AHHHHHHHHHHH!

(That's the sound of me screaming.)

I am 40 weeks pregnant, and I really can't believe it. What does that mean? Today is my due date!



(I had to save my ticker from the Bump to mark the occasion. As you can see, I never updated the name.)

Let me tell you something. Due dates don't mean anything. I had my fourth internal yesterday, and I have made no progress whatsoever. No dilation, no effacement. Those real contractions I thought I was having? Yeah, they weren't real. They were Braxton-Hicks.

Despite that, I do think that I have dropped some, but probably not all the way. I can walk farther and catch my breath easier. I'm also waddling more than I was. And I can just feel that he's lower.

But all this adds up to is that I have to see the doctor again on Tuesday, and we are going to have the Big Induction Talk. My OB doesn't want to let me go much further than 41 weeks, which means that right now induction is looking like more and more of a reality. I think I would feel more at peace with being induced if I had made some progress, because as it stands right now, I am a great candidate for an induction turned C-section. I am not one of those people who has to deliver vaginally, but I would prefer it. And I'm not over being pregnant. I could do this for a couple more weeks if that's what it takes. I just worry about letting him stay in too long. And then I worry about trying to induce.

But I'm trying not to think too much about this. It is what it is, and all I can do is stay active and hope that some of the activity helps with moving things along. A lot can happen in a short amount of time, and I still could go into labor at any moment. Also, we found out that Charlie weighs about seven and a half pounds right now, so he's right on target. (And so am I, with a total weight gain of 29 pounds.)



My mom is flying in today! This is exciting. It means that she will be present for Charlie's birth (no, she will not be in the delivery room), and we might even get to have some mother-daughter time beforehand. I can't wait to see her.

I forgot to mention this, but I won an awesome giveaway last week from Mummy's Product Reviews. I won quite a few eco-friendly baby products created/sold by some of the posters on the Eco-Friendly Family board. All in all, I won eight different items, and I have already started receiving some of them in the mail. So far my favorite is this adorable pair of handmade baby shoes:



You can find them here if you're interested. There are a whole bunch of cute fabrics to choose from.

Anyway, I promised last week that I would share some pictures of Charlie's room. First off, I'd like to say that I love themes. But I decided not to do a theme for Charlie's room for practical reasons: 1) he's not going to care what his room looks like, and 2) we have no idea how long we'll be living in our current house. If we were homeowners, I would have probably gone a little nuts with the nursery. But we aren't, so we stayed basic. (Two of the themes I thought about were sock monkeys and aquarium/fish/ocean stuff.)

My original idea for the color scheme in Charlie's room was baby blue and chocolate brown - however, somewhere along the way we ended up with basic baby blue. The only brown to be found in the room is the carpet (which is probably considered more beige than anything) and the picture frames. I am now glad that we didn't incorporate a lot of brown because Charlie's room is pretty small, so the light colors and furniture helps with making it feel less cramped. That said, it is kind of cramped, but I love it and I think it's going to work just fine.

As promised, here is the evolution of Charlie's room.

Here's the wallpaper that was originally on the walls:



Beginning to gather baby stuff:



In the process of taking off the wallpaper:



Picking the paint color:



Beginning to paint:





Here's what it looked like after our shower:



Here's Roy painting Charlie's little bookcase:



And now, for the mostly finished product.

View from the doorway. You can see our awesome glider and ottoman that we got at Babies R Us. This was our one nursery splurge, and we only went for it because it was on sale. We're hoping it will last us a lot of years.



Bookcase:



Artwork above bookcase (small original watercolors of sea horses from the Aquarium of the Pacific):



Chest of drawers with light up aquarium on top (both of which were gifts from one of Roy's co-workers). The white boards above the chest of drawers are where we are going to make a collage of some of our maternity photos. I do think that Charlie, if he was older and saw the pictures hanging up in his room, would probably say, "WTF, Mom?! What makes you think I want to have pictures of your gigantic pregnant belly in my room? Not to mention you and Dad kissing! Gross!" It was either this or wall letters, which have become so freaking trendy that I decided not to do them - they are cute, though. I did want to do something like this (but with my own photos), but I didn't for some reason. Maybe for the next baby...



Changing table and little bouncy chair (also gifts from generous co-workers):



Charlie's crib:



Charlie's closet:



Charlie's friends, waiting ever so patiently to be chewed and drooled on (including the world's most patient sock monkey):







(We put Charlie's friends in his crib for now since he won't be sleeping in the crib for the first few months anyway.)

Charlie's room definitely won't be on any design blogs any time soon, but we're not design blog people anyway. I absolutely love how calm his room makes me feel, and hopefully it'll have the same effect on Charlie. I also love how there are different elements going on in one space: space (the mobile), the ocean (the aquarium and sea horse pictures), sock monkeys, etc.

Holy long post, Batman! Sorry about that. I'm trying to cram a lot of stuff in since the end is near. Perhaps there will be a (shorter) 41 week post? I guess we'll just have to wait and see!

Beginnings, Captured

I was over-the-top excited to see that we got our disc of maternity photos in the mail yesterday. As promised, here are some of my favorites.

(Click to enlarge.)

































(You can click here to see them all.)

The photos are by Christine Farah Photography, the awesomest photographer ever. Thanks to her, we have these treasured memories to look back on for the rest of our lives. I can't help but tear up when I look at them. Love is an amazing thing.