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The day he was born

Today Wesley turns one. Wow.

I wrote a rough version of his birth story almost immediately after he was born. I kept waiting to clean it or shorten it or something before publishing it. But it’s been a year. So I’m going to share it, long, unpolished and kind of graphic though it is. This is the day I became a mother. This is the day my son was born. It was an amazing day.

Saturday, March 30th, started with me just as frustrated with being pregnant as ever. Still no sign of labor in sight and I was uncomfortable, impatient and generally pissed off. The weather had improved finally so we decided to take a walk around Brookfield Zoo. The nice weather improved my mood immensely. About halfway through the hour and a half or so we were there I went to the restroom and noticed some light pink spotting. I’ve never been so happy to see blood on toilet paper in my life! I tried not to get my hopes up though because there had been other labor “signs” so many times and they never amounted to anything. Plus, I hadn’t felt one contraction all day.

We ended our little date day with dinner at a local Mexican place. It was tasty and there I felt my first “different” contraction. It kind of actually hurt a little and it was much lower. I still blew it off since I was really convinced this kid was never ever going to come out.

We went home, watched some Netflix and around 9pm the contractions started coming every 10-20 minutes. They were definitely uncomfortable. Instead of tightening around the top of my belly like all my other contractions had been before that day I felt it directly in my cervix. It kind of felt like each contraction was prying it open (which I guess it was). At this point I got a little excited but still felt pretty certain I would go to bed and wake up pregnant.

We tried to go to sleep at this point to see if they would stop but they just kept getting more regular and more painful. Lying down during a contraction was torture so I ended up jumping out of bed and pacing through each one. I did not get any sleep but I think Joel dozed between a few of them. At this point I was totally in don’t touch me mode. Joel’s job was timing them but I wouldn’t let him rub my back or anything else.

At this point they were about 5-7 minutes apart and about a minute long. I had started to think this was really it so we took a shower to be sure. Warm water always stopped my contractions before but this time they kept going right through the shower.

It was about 1am and had finally been an hour of Joel’s app was telling us they were averaging 5 1/2 minutes apart. Since my mom and sisters live two hours away we texted them to let them know.

My sisters and mom got to the house around 3am. My contractions were about 4-5 mins apart and I was shaking even though I wasn’t actually cold. Looking back I’m fairly sure it was just nerves and excitement. I could still kind of talk through the contractions but I was way more comfortable closing my eyes and just breathing through them. We called the midwife and let her know what was going on. She thought it was a good idea for us to go into the hospital.

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I wanted one last belly picture so I put a tiny bit of make up on so we could take one and then hit publish on the “going to the hospital” blog posts that had been sitting in our drafts folders for forever. I had a couple contractions during this time and by the time I was ready to take the picture Joel was kind of stressing out. He just wanted to go. Everyone else just kind of chuckled at me about it. I did have the thought that my Bradley instructor would probably say I wasn’t ready to go to the hospital since I was putting on make up and smiling for a picture. All I could think about was the jacuzzi tub that was waiting for me at the hospital though. Plus my mom was worried the shaking might mean I was going into transition already. (Spoiler alert, I wasn’t. Not even close.)

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We got to the hospital at around 4am. The car ride was very unpleasant but my mom rode in the back and petted my head during them so I managed okay.

The nurse checked me and I was nearly 4cm so they admitted me. Of course I had been 3cm since they checked me a week and a half ago so I wasn’t very encouraged by that. I had to lie in the bed for about 30 minutes so they could get a baseline on my contractions and his heart rate. Awful. Worst pain ever. And then my blood pressure was high so I had to lie down for even longer until they could get it down somehow. I’m sure the extra pain from lying down in bed did not help my contractions any. My sister gave me her sleep mask and I tried to just zone through the contractions. This became a theme throughout my whole labor, I just wanted my eyes closed the whole time. Partially so I could focus and partially because I was so. freaking. tired.

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The nurse could tell how miserable being in bed made me so she had me lie on my side to see if that would get my blood pressure down to an acceptable level. I also got up to use the restroom because dealing with a contraction while fighting the urge to pee is not even a little fun. They had someone come in and draw blood to check for preeclampsia (those labs came back fine). Thankfully the side lying “cheat” plus emptying my bladder worked and I got a couple decent readings on my blood pressure. The nurse made sure to let me know it was kind of a cheat doing it that way but she was really trying to get me out of the bed and in the tub so I could be more comfortable. Bless that woman.

The minute she told me I could get up I shot out of that devil bed. They filled the tub while I paced around the room and changed into the bikini top I bought specifically for the birth. Yes, I bought just a bikini top for the occasion. Doesn’t everybody do that? I got into that giant jacuzzi tub and was in heaven. It felt so freaking good. I was a little worried that it was too early to get in the tub since I was only 4cm and that my contractions would space out but they actually got closer together when I was in there. When a contraction would hit I would sway my hips in the water and it really helped me manage things.

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Joel tried to put some music on at this point but the jets were so loud that it really just sounded like noise and it started to bug me. I had him turn it off “for now” but we never ended up turning it back on again. I guess I’m just not a music person when I’m in pain.

After awhile in the tub I was really getting tired. I’m not sure how long I was in the tub but I know the sun rose and then some while my contractions got harder and closer together in there. I was just a little too short for the tub. I had to really hold myself up by pointing my toes against the far end of the tub and I could never fully relax between contractions. Eventually my legs started cramping up so I decided to get out of the tub.

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I paced around for awhile and did the labor dance with Joel for contractions. By this point I was so sleepy I was having a hard time. I just wanted to lie down and sleep but I couldn’t handle the pain of the contractions lying down. I ended up sitting on the exercise ball next to the bed with pillows propped up underneath my head so I could doze between contractions. I still had to stand up for each contraction but it wasn’t too bad to just stand up from the ball and lean over the bed for each one.

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In this time I really slept between contractions. I know at one point they were getting so intense I had a hard time distinguishing reality from the semi dream state I went into between contractions. For a little while I was so tired and in pain I almost felt like I was drugged or was hallucinating. I asked Joel if I said anything strange and he couldn’t remember specifically but he said I did say a few things that made everyone kind of look at each other and say huh? According to him it was nothing embarrassing though. So win?

One of the weirdest things about me in labor was that I was so freaking polite. I apologized for bleeding on things, said please and thank you for water sips all the time. I’d finish a contraction and ask other people if they were okay. I did not expect that about myself. Extreme pain and exhaustion makes me nice. Who’d a thought?

Things on the ball got really intense. I wanted to get back in the tub but I couldn’t stand the thought of lying down so I opted to try being in the shower for awhile. Joel held the shower head on my lower back and that felt so good. I did look down and notice he was still wearing his street shoes. In the shower. I came out of a contraction, realized he was fully clothed in the shower, kicked him out and let my mom take over since she was barefoot.

After awhile I was too tired to stand in the shower between contractions anymore so I went back to the ball. The contractions started coming almost every minute and a half to two minutes. A couple times while I was on the ball my midwife came in and asked if I wanted to be checked but I turned her down. I wasn’t feeling any urge to push so I knew I wasn’t at 10 and if she told me I hadn’t progressed much I would lose it. She was so amazing and was fine with it. She made sure to tell me there was no rush and I was doing a great job.

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My midwife wasn’t there the entire time but she did come in and out of the room a lot and stayed to talk me through contractions for long stretches of time. We got a really great routine going with my mom, Joel and my midwife. Joel would time the contractions which is something we learned in Bradley. Since my contractions were consistently about a minute long he would tell me when I was halfway done and then when there was only 10 seconds or so left. I honestly think that helped me mentally get through the contractions more than anything else. I just kept repeating to myself that I could do anything for one minute.

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My mom would run her fingers on my hips and stomach. She tried rubbing my back a few times but that never felt good. The lights running of her fingers on me though helped me to focus my energy on exactly where I needed to relax. Then my midwife would talk me through the relaxation out loud. She is super sweet and soft spoken which turned out to be exactly what I needed at the time. Between the three of them I was able to really allow myself to give into the contractions and relax the baby down.

I finally allowed the midwife to check me. I thought sitting on the bed would be torture but it was surprisingly less intense. This may be because I was actually standing up from the ball as a contraction would hit and that hurt. Plus, I was doing a semi squat position next to the bed and I think that really was moving him down. I about cried from happiness when she told me I was at 7-8cm, fully effaced and baby was at -2. Up to that point my water had sprung a leak but hadn’t fully broken so she broke my water bag all the way and saw there was slight meconium.

Mentally I was in a pretty bad place at this point. I could only focus on how ridiculously tired I was. I just wanted to take a nap. Plus I was suddenly terrified of actually pushing. As well as I was dealing with the contractions, the unknown of the pain of pushing was suddenly overwhelming to me. I told my mom how scared I was. I didn’t want to push. This baby had taken so long to get here. Between my loss a year earlier and him being overdue he just didn’t feel real to me. She encouraged me but I know I was still holding back the process mentally. Somehow my body knew I wasn’t in a good place mentally to start pushing and my contractions actually spaced out quite a bit. Apparently augmenting my labor was mentioned at this point because I had “stalled.” My support team was great though and I never heard a word of that until months later. I was able to sleep for the 15-20 minutes between several contractions. I’m amazed that my body seemed to know exactly what I needed. I was in a much better mental place after a got a few of those naps and my labor picked right back up on its own.

They eventually talked me into getting up on my hands and knees on the bed and the contractions picked back up frequency and intensity. I started feeling kind of pushy and would sometimes grunt/involuntarily push about halfway through a contraction. The nurse checked me but said I still had a cervical lip so I couldn’t push. It was really hard to relax through the contractions but also fight the urge to push. Often as not I would end up pushing a bit towards the end no matter how hard I tried to fight it.

At this point I was like oh my god what have I done? Why am I not numb from my eyeballs down? I asked if it was too late for an epidural knowing full well it was. At least I waited until it was too late to get it before I mentioned it, right?

My midwife came in and had me push a little to see if I could get him over the cervical lip. After a couple pushes she checked me again and the lip was still there so she had me change to sitting up with my knees up to see if the lip was positional.

It was positional and after not too long I got his head over the lip and started the pushing phase for real. I was still really nervous to push but my body started taking over at the end of each push and I was getting some effective movement. I asked if I’d have to be pushing for long and they kind of chuckled. Someone said if they could know things like that they could win the lottery.

I pushed for what felt like forever. In reality the whole phase was only about 40 minutes. Still, time kind of disappears in those moments. Between pushes I could actually feel his head moving around in the birth canal. Weirdest feeling ever. Finally they told me they could see his head. They told me I could touch it and at first I didn’t want to. Don’t ask me why I didn’t want to, I wasn’t exactly rational in the moment. They did convince me to though and I’m really glad, I think I would have been bummed if I hadn’t touched it. It felt like jello, it was so weird. Joel impressed me and kept watching things happen instead of staying up by my head like he thought he would want. He even touched the head. I guess the Bradley Method classes plus all those YouTube videos I forced him to watch paid off.

I was fighting the pushing a little because of the burn. It kind of felt like my girly bits were going to rip in half. Good times. Luckily my body is smarter than my brain and kept taking over at the end and I couldn’t help but push effectively.

His head was partially out for several pushes. My midwife actually had to have me reposition my legs because he kept crowning when I pushed and then going back in. I reached down for a second time to feel his head sitting partially out and it was really encouraging.

At the very end it burned so badly and I could actually feel myself tearing as he was coming out. Part of me wanted to hold back still but then, in the last three pushes that got his head out, I wanted him out more than I cared how much it burned. I just wanted to be done.

His head came out and she told me not to push and she suctioned him. That was rough because I just wanted it done. Plus my body really wanted to keep pushing. My mom talked me through it though. Finally the next contraction came and I pushed him out. I vividly remember my midwife saying, “One shoulder, the other shoulder” and then sweet relief because he was out.

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She immediately put him on my stomach and I stared at his beautiful face. The adrenaline rush was unbelievable. He was kind of purple and it felt like ages for him to finally cry. In reality it was only a few seconds but the minute he let out his first yell I realized I’d been holding my breath waiting for him to take his first one. I didn’t cry right then, I was too overwhelmed with happiness. I said, “Hi baby” a million times and then “I did it! I love you so much.” As soon as he was on my stomach I felt no pain. It was the most amazing thing in the world to see his face and know he came from me.

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I looked over at Joel and he was crying. I could see a tear running down his nose. I looked at him and said something about how we did it and we have a son. It was so magical. I’ve never been so happy in my life. That moment is forever etched into my mind. The exhaustion and the pain were instantly gone. All I felt was overwhelming love and a sense of accomplishment.

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His cord was kind of short so the midwife had to keep telling me not to tug on it. I’m sure it’s my fault that my baby has an outie belly button. I just wanted to kiss him a million times and soak in his smell.

Once it stopped pulsing Joel cut the cord and I got to hold him for awhile longer. Wesley kept coughing and sputtering though so they took him away to suction him out in case he inhaled meconium. They did weight and footprints and all that at that point too.

Joel followed him over there while I got stitched up. I had a second degree tear that needed a few stitches. I also delivered the placenta. The midwife asked if I was saving it and I said no but I did want to see it. I’m a weirdo but I wanted to see the thing that made me miserable for 9 months. She was very cool about it and showed it to me and explained what I was looking at.

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I finally got Wesley back and he nursed for 20 minutes on one side and 30 on the other. It was another magical moment. He was a complete natural. The moment he latched on was when I finally teared up.

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It was like a dream how wonderful that first breastfeeding experience was. I expected it to be painful but it wasn’t at all, it was practically pleasurable.

The hospital stay was marvelous. All the nurses were so kind and supportive. Someone came in and gave me a post-natal massage. A photographer came in and took gorgeous pictures of Wesley when he was less than 24 hours old. The food wasn’t even too bad. They made a fantastic apple pie which I may or may not have ordered with every lunch and dinner meal. Ahem. They took Wesley to the nursery a few times and Joel went with him every time. It honestly felt more like a stay at the spa than a hospital. It was the perfect wrap up to a wonderful birth.

I’m so pleased with every aspect of my birth. I had the perfect support team. Even my midwife mentioned how it was so beautiful to see my support team made up of the women in my life who had given birth before me leading me into motherhood. It was so special that my mom and two of my sisters could be there. They were great support and they took the most amazing pictures and video. Of the four care providers in the practice the midwife who attended my birth was the one we saw the least during the pregnancy. She ended being exactly what I needed though.

And then of course there was Joel. His support was absolutely essential. I never let him leave my side. Poor guy only got to pee once and didn’t get to eat anything the whole time because every time he tried to sneak away to take care of himself I called him back. I needed him and he was amazing. He never breathed a word of complaint. In fact, I didn’t even realize he didn’t get to eat or sit down or anything. He was nothing but positive, supportive and encouraging.

It was the birth of my dreams. Everything just went so well. Even better though was I got this wonderful tiny person out of it. He is better than I ever dreamed.

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—-

And now it’s a year later. Motherhood has been everything and nothing that I expected. I wouldn’t trade this kid for anything in the whole world… most days. I know it’s cliche but I really can’t believe how fast it went. I’m so glad I get to be home and watch this little human grow up.  He is the best. As long as he is in my future things look very bright indeed.

Welcome to the World, Wesley

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This picture perfectly describes how we all feel in this house right now. Not at all surprising of course.

That being said, this will be the short version of things. I’m working on the full birth story but it’s really hard to pull myself away from staring at his perfect little face long enough. That, or I’m trying to catch a moment or two of sleep or maybe shower. Maybe. Anyway, here are the important details.

Wesley made his entrance into the world on Easter Sunday, 03-31-13. He weighed 8 pounds 1 ounce (which is only one once off from the weight estimate on the BPP ultrasound. How often does that happen?!) and he was 21 inches long.

His birth was positively beautiful. It really was everything I hoped it would be. I owe so much of that to my amazing support team. Everyone from the nurse, to my midwife, to my mom and sisters played their part and helped me through everything. Mostly though Joel was my rock. He was by my side literally every minute of my labor and I could not have done it without him. With all their help and thanks to my body somehow knowing exactly what to do and when to do it I got an empowering, natural birth. The moment I met my son will forever be one of the best moments of my life.

We are home now and adjusting nicely. Wesley is a champion at nursing. I really expected it to be difficult and painful at the beginning but he knew just what to do and I have to say breastfeeding is one of my favorite things I’ve ever done in my life. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of sleep but duh, I wouldn’t have expected him to. Joel is great at taking shifts so we both catch some sleep in spurts.

All in all I’m in state of complete newborn bliss. You’ll have to forgive me from slacking online for a bit. I’m just trying to soak up every second with my gorgeous new son.

Welcome to the World, Wesley

SkyMommy-Wesley-Yawn

This picture perfectly describes how we all feel in this house right now. Not at all surprising of course.

That being said, this will be the short version of things. I’m working on the full birth story but it’s really hard to pull myself away from staring at his perfect little face long enough. That, or I’m trying to catch a moment or two of sleep or maybe shower. Maybe. Anyway, here are the important details.

Wesley made his entrance into the world on Easter Sunday, 03-31-13. He weighed 8 pounds 1 ounce (which is only one once off from the weight estimate on the BPP ultrasound. How often does that happen?!) and he was 21 inches long.

His birth was positively beautiful. It really was everything I hoped it would be. I owe so much of that to my amazing support team. Everyone from the nurse, to my midwife, to my mom and sisters played their part and helped me through everything. Mostly though Joel was my rock. He was by my side literally every minute of my labor and I could not have done it without him. With all their help and thanks to my body somehow knowing exactly what to do and when to do it I got an empowering, natural birth. The moment I met my son will forever be one of the best moments of my life.

We are home now and adjusting nicely. Wesley is a champion at nursing. I really expected it to be difficult and painful at the beginning but he knew just what to do and I have to say breastfeeding is one of my favorite things I’ve ever done in my life. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of sleep but duh, I wouldn’t have expected him to. Joel is great at taking shifts so we both catch some sleep in spurts.

All in all I’m in state of complete newborn bliss. You’ll have to forgive me from slacking online for a bit. I’m just trying to soak up every second with my gorgeous new son.

41 weeks

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Here I am at 48 weeks pregnant.

Oh wait no, 41. Just 41 weeks.

I swear every single day this week has felt a week long. At least. It is so weird how time works like that. I could hardly believe how fast this pregnancy flew by and then it’s like time slammed on its brakes in the last week.

I have my ups and downs about being overdue. I’m mostly just thankful he’s healthy. In some ways Joel has it worse than me. He goes to work every day where he gets the “haven’t you had that baby yet?” several times every day. Of course Joel doesn’t mind but I’m sure it would drive me crazy. I on the other hand stay home and so I only get the random text checking in which just feels sweet.

Funnily enough the only one to give me a little bit of a hard time in person is the nurse at my OB’s office. She was all, “I went on vacation and everything! Why haven’t you had him yet?” Joel says I actually rolled my eyes. Oops. I mean really though, if you work in an office with a bunch of pregnant ladies shouldn’t you know better?

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Wesley is still as healthy as ever. He passed another NST today although he was quite a bit lazier than usual. In fact, I was starting to get a little worried because normally the bands around my belly make Wesley annoyed and he kicks up a storm. I asked Joel to say something to him just to be sure. Joel just said Wesley’s name really quick and this immediately happened.

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The little black arrows indicate kicks and his heart rate went up a bit (which is exactly what it’s supposed to do when he moves). Proof this kid loves his daddy’s voice more than any other sound in the world. It is the sweetest, coolest thing ever to me.

I talked to my midwife about my concerns about his hands being up by his face and she eased my mind a lot. Apparently it’s only a concern when his hand is over his head. She said he’s so engaged in my pelvis right now that she’s not worried about that happening at all. I didn’t have her check me for further dilation since I haven’t had any “real” contractions since she checked me last. She also mentioned my original dating ultrasound put my due date at March 23rd. They don’t officially change things unless they’re a week or more off but likely he’s a couple days less late than we’re counting right now.

So we wait. Still no induction date because there’s currently no medical reason to set one. At least the weather has finally started to improve. And if he decides to stick around I guess I’ll actually get to have Easter dinner with Joel’s family. That would be fun. Plus, April’s birthstone is diamonds. Aquamarine is pretty but who can really complain about diamonds, right?

“Bigger than average”

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We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

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One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

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I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

“Bigger than average”

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We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

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One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

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I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

Overdue

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And I’m surprisingly okay with it.

Now yesterday? I was decidedly not okay with it. I also reserve the right to not be okay with this whole overdue thing at any point in the future.

However I woke up this morning feeling really zen about the whole thing. Here is why:

I’m waited on hand and foot– Joel treats me like a queen. More than usual even. This is mostly due to the fact that moving is freaking difficult anymore. If he’s not there to help me off the couch chances are, unless it’s an emergency, I just won’t get up. It’s that much of an effort. He knows that and really doesn’t mind grabbing me a glass of water or tea or helping me yank off my shoes. It’s kind of awesome really. Once this kid is out I’ll have a couple more weeks of guilt free queen-dom and then I’ll have to go back to actually doing things for myself. Why rush it?

I eat what I want – Seriously. At this point I’ve only gained about 25 pounds which is the low end of what I’m supposed to gain. So I eat whatever sounds delicious. And sure, I struggle with nausea still which is really frustrating but, when that eases up, I stuff my face with popcorn and nutella and brownies and ice cream and pizza and…. well you get the point. Once this kid is out I’m going to want to start thinking about losing the baby weight. Who really wants to rush to eat less dessert? Not me.

Everyone smiles at me – It’s something I’ve noticed lately. Everywhere I go people look at me and grin. I’m assuming it’s because I’m just such an adorable pregnant lady and not because I spilled something down the front of me. Although there are plenty of times when the spilling thing is true too. Plus, the look on people’s faces when they ask me when I’m due and I say “last Thursday” cracks me up.

My house is SO clean – I’m generally a messy person. However, the idea of bringing a brand new baby into a messy house makes me insane so my house has never been and stayed so clean for so long. I have a feeling I won’t be as concerned about messiness when I’m battling the newborn haze so I’m enjoying this while it lasts.

It’s not like I’m going to sleep better – I get frustrated with the pregnancy insomnia and the waking up every couple of hours to pee. But I’m well aware of the fact that newborns take sleep deprivation to a whole new level so there’s no point in rushing that. I enjoy the sleep that I can get while I’m getting it.

I love my bump – Sure it makes standing up, rolling over in bed or any movement all at really tricky but seriously I love it. I’ve never felt so comfortable in my own skin. I will miss this big old bump (and the kicks I feel in it) more than anything else about pregnancy.

Everything is healthy – and really I’m only 4 days late. That’s not that late, although it does kind of feel like an eternity.  Wesley has passed two non stress tests with flying colors. The contractions that I’m having I either can’t feel at all or aren’t really that uncomfortable. My body has dilated and effaced some already so that bodes well for when I go into active labor. We get to see him on an ultrasound tomorrow morning to make sure his fluids and movements and all that are good.

My midwife says boys are 8 days late on average. I asked if there was a limit for how long I could go and she said no. She doesn’t like to set an arbitrary induction date because, as long as everything is healthy, an induction date just puts pressure on the whole situation. I love that so much. She did say we could induce any time I wanted “today even” and I’m not going to lie I considered it for a fraction of a second. But really, my body is doing it’s thing, Wesley seems healthy and comfortable and I hear pitocin is a real bitch. No reason to stress him or my uterus unless it looks like he or I aren’t doing well anymore.

NST2

So yeah, as of this moment I’m fine with being pregnant forever. We’re still doing all the things (tea, pineapple, primrose oil, walking, sex (I’m thinking Joel is secretly okay with me going awhile yet because of this one) bouncing on an exercise ball, spicy foods…. and some I’m forgetting. Really, all the things) to get things going. If you’d like to give me advice on something else to try let me refer you to number 5 on this post… and then please don’t. I appreciate the thought but it makes me want to rage quit the internet.

I’m okay with being late. Really.

40 weeks

Hi due date!

40weeksbelly

We made it to 40 weeks.

I picked this shirt for my 40 week picture on purpose because I thought it might be fun to see how accurate those belly pillows are at Motherhood. If you follow me on Instagram you may remember when I posted this:

compare1

I was 25 weeks at the time and the belly was supposed to add three months.

compare25vs40

And three and half months later? It’s not too far off actually. Thankfully my actual belly looks less like a lumpy pillow.

Anyway, on to pregnancy news. Obviously Wesley decided to be an individual and not come on the 17th. That’s okay, at this point I’m happy with any birth day he chooses.

Any.

Hear that, Wesley?

Obviously I’d prefer it be sooner rather than later.

This morning was rough. I woke up feeling like crap. Thinking maybe I just needed to eat, I had breakfast… and proceeded to see it in reverse. Ugh. Seriously, at 40 weeks I should not still be suffering from morning sickness. My body is a cruel, cruel bitch sometimes.

So of course after that I had a massive meltdown. I texted Joel that he needed to come home right now (as opposed to in ten minutes when he was planning on leaving to pick me up for our appointment.) I’m sure he probably thought I was in labor. Oops, sorry babe. Anyway, he calmed me down and assured me that I would not in fact be pregnant and nauseated forever and we managed to make it into our appointment on time.

Thankfully the appointment went great. I had a non stress test and found out I was actually having contractions. Who knew? I couldn’t feel them but apparently they were there. Wesley tolerated them great and was wiggling and kicking up a storm. Pretty sure he wasn’t a fan of the pressure the belts put on my belly because he kept kicking right on them.

NST

Ignore my puffy eyes. That’s what a hysterical meltdown right before an appointment gets you.

The midwife asked if I wanted to be checked and I decided to go ahead and find out. (Yes, I’m about to talk about my cervix so if that’s not your thing move on to the next paragraph.) I honestly didn’t expect to be dilated at all and to get super discouraged but I just needed to know. Thankfully it was great news! The first thing she said was that she can feel his head. He’s apparently really low, like 0 or even -1 station. I guess that’s why it feels like he’s taking a pair of scissors to my cervix half the time, he is IN my pelvis. I’m also dilated to 3cm, and 60% effaced. Apparently that’s really good for a first time mom. happy dance. She asked if I wanted her to sweep my membranes and since I’m already a bit dilated I said sure. It was uncomfortable for sure but honestly not worse than Wesley’s head banging against it all day. I’ve noticed some of my mucous plug now since I’ve gone to the restroom a couple times. Being excited about seeing mucus when you wipe has to be the weirdest thing ever but if I hadn’t been in a public restroom I may have shouted Woo Hoo! out loud. Pregnancy is so glamorous you guys.

All of that may not mean that he’s coming in the next day or two but at least there is something going on. We didn’t discuss induction or anything, I’m just coming back to be monitored every three days or so and if I make it to 41 weeks (oh god, please no) we’ll do a sonogram to make sure everything still looks okay. It’s really great to have care providers that aren’t rushing me. I know that isn’t always the case and it’s great to feel respected and well taken care of.

So we wait. It’s so annoying being in this limbo. I feel like I can’t make any plans because who knows if the baby will be here or coming or whatever. I’m trying to still enjoy this down time. Joel and I have been doing a lot of cuddling and watching movies and just being quiet. I’ve gotten some video clips of Wesley moving around my belly. I miss Phoebe like mad and I can’t wait to meet Wesley but I really am trying to appreciate these last few moments with just Joel. So soon everything will be completely different.

39 Weeks

39weeksbelly

This is my last weekly update before my due date.

Wait, what now?

Could be my last weekly update period if this kid decides to follow in his mom and dad’s footsteps and be born on a 17th. I’ve been discussing it with Wesley and telling him Sunday is his birthday so he better not miss it. St. Patrick’s Day would be a pretty freaking cool birthday. Plus, my favorite midwife is on call this weekend. Not that I mind who catches him that much, we’ve just seen her the most so it would be cool to have her at the birth.

It’s fine if he picks another birthday. I mean obviously.

I would prefer it be sooner rather than later. But also it would be nice if he waits until at least after this weekend because Joel has his dad-chelor party tomorrow. It’s also my nephew’s birthday Saturday and it would be really cool if my little guy could have his own day. Not to mention my nephew would probably be pretty bummed if everyone got pulled away from his party because I was in labor.

So basically I have a lot of opinions about when he comes. Which means he will likely come exactly when I don’t want him to.

Such is life.

We had another uneventful appointment yesterday where Joel captured this,

doppler

which has to be one of my favorite shots of all time. I will never get sick of hearing Wesley’s beautiful healthy heartbeat.

She didn’t check me for dilation again and I’m totally fine with that. If I’m not dilated at all I’ll just be bummed and if I am it could give me a false sense of when things might start happening. There is a tiny bit of me that is curious but not enough to request a check. She didn’t mention if I would get checked at my next appointment (which is on my due date, eek!).

Other than the good appointment, yesterday was a tough day. I woke up, took a shower and promptly puked my guts out. It was a nice little flashback into the first trimester. I remained horrendously nauseated all day, to the point where I couldn’t pull it together enough to go to dance. That was really upsetting, especially since my studio is now on break for the next two weeks. So I guess my pregnant dancing days are over. Sigh.

So now it’s just a waiting game. Joel is incredibly jumpy, which I find completely adorable. I find myself feeling like I need to cling to every second. Every lazy moment, every cuddle with Joel, every moment of sleep. We went to the movies. They asked if we wanted to sign up for a rewards card and we just kind of laughed because who knows when we might be back.

Every wiggle and kick feels extra precious because I know I don’t get to feel them much longer. Of course I can’t wait to nibble on the delicious little toes and knees that have been making my belly dance but I’ll miss feeling him go crazy after I have a Coke or milkshake. I will not miss the nausea or the food aversions or feeling like my pelvis is trying to split in half every time I move, but the kicks? Those I will miss, even the hard ones to the ribs.

39 Weeks

39weeksbelly

This is my last weekly update before my due date.

Wait, what now?

Could be my last weekly update period if this kid decides to follow in his mom and dad’s footsteps and be born on a 17th. I’ve been discussing it with Wesley and telling him Sunday is his birthday so he better not miss it. St. Patrick’s Day would be a pretty freaking cool birthday. Plus, my favorite midwife is on call this weekend. Not that I mind who catches him that much, we’ve just seen her the most so it would be cool to have her at the birth.

It’s fine if he picks another birthday. I mean obviously.

I would prefer it be sooner rather than later. But also it would be nice if he waits until at least after this weekend because Joel has his dad-chelor party tomorrow. It’s also my nephew’s birthday Saturday and it would be really cool if my little guy could have his own day. Not to mention my nephew would probably be pretty bummed if everyone got pulled away from his party because I was in labor.

So basically I have a lot of opinions about when he comes. Which means he will likely come exactly when I don’t want him to.

Such is life.

We had another uneventful appointment yesterday where Joel captured this,

doppler

which has to be one of my favorite shots of all time. I will never get sick of hearing Wesley’s beautiful healthy heartbeat.

She didn’t check me for dilation again and I’m totally fine with that. If I’m not dilated at all I’ll just be bummed and if I am it could give me a false sense of when things might start happening. There is a tiny bit of me that is curious but not enough to request a check. She didn’t mention if I would get checked at my next appointment (which is on my due date, eek!).

Other than the good appointment, yesterday was a tough day. I woke up, took a shower and promptly puked my guts out. It was a nice little flashback into the first trimester. I remained horrendously nauseated all day, to the point where I couldn’t pull it together enough to go to dance. That was really upsetting, especially since my studio is now on break for the next two weeks. So I guess my pregnant dancing days are over. Sigh.

So now it’s just a waiting game. Joel is incredibly jumpy, which I find completely adorable. I find myself feeling like I need to cling to every second. Every lazy moment, every cuddle with Joel, every moment of sleep. We went to the movies. They asked if we wanted to sign up for a rewards card and we just kind of laughed because who knows when we might be back.

Every wiggle and kick feels extra precious because I know I don’t get to feel them much longer. Of course I can’t wait to nibble on the delicious little toes and knees that have been making my belly dance but I’ll miss feeling him go crazy after I have a Coke or milkshake. I will not miss the nausea or the food aversions or feeling like my pelvis is trying to split in half every time I move, but the kicks? Those I will miss, even the hard ones to the ribs.

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