41 weeks: Everyone needs to quiet down!

Okay, so I'm writing this waaaaaaay after week 41. Say, week 46ish. But I have GOT to catch up. It makes me very sad that I haven't kept up with this documentation of Hunter's little life...well, of all of our lives. And I know that, try as I may, I won't remember so much that has gone by already, even if I document some of it.

Week 41 was very difficult for me. No, not because I was late. I wasn't worried about being late. I was worried about everyone ELSE being worried about being late. Because the later it got, the fussier people got. Ironically, after NINE MONTHS of waiting, every day after my very-rough-estimate "due date" was TOO LONG TO WAIT!!!! TOO LONG!!! You know, I'd read about fudging the due date to people...like, telling your friends and family that you were one week "earlier" than you were, so no one got a chance to bug you because the baby came "early"!
Yeah, I should have done that. Because I had to quit facebook at one point just to stop justifying myself and feeling like I was failing when I had no reason to feel that way.

I can't even point out any specific remark (aren't YOU all grateful!) that put me on edge. Honestly, it was the combination of my own anxiety with anything anyone said, good or bad. I was worried about Hunter being late because I was having him in the hospital and doctors are (sometimes understandably) fussy when your baby seems "overcooked"...but often it's a liability issue.

Now, Dr. Kurian was WONDERFUL at the birth (as you'll read in another post). SIMPly WONDERful. But his nurse asked me if I wanted to schedule an induction. Before I was due. I was actually 39 weeks. And healthy. No complications except Group B Strep Positive, which isn't an issue really. So it irritates me GREATLY that they would encourage scheduling an intervention so routinely without there being any cause whatsoever. I get it if I had gestational diabetes and was going blind. That I get. But for a healthy mom with a healthy baby, who could naturally give birth (as I did) at least two weeks after her "due date." Grrrrr....

But I digress. Or complain. Both, probably.

So on Wednesday of week 41 I went in for a non-stress test. "Non-stress" is definitely a misnomer for me. Because I was beyond stressed. Not because I was worried about Hunter. I had no signs to indicate that Hunter was unwell. I was worried that perhaps Hunter would not put on a "good show" and make people worried when he was really doing just fine.

So, for the first time during my pregnancy at any doctor's visit, my blood pressure was really high. Then the nurse had me lay on my back, which hurt my hips and lower back like you can't even believe. Then they can't get a good reading off one machine. Like, it just broke. Then they wheel a second machine in. Which stops printing. Thankfully, Dr. Kurian came in, looked at the results on the monitor and deemed everything fine. But I would have to come in the next day for an ultrasound to monitor amniotic fluid, then again the day after for another non-stress test.

That night I felt little pains that came sort of regularly, which I "walked off" around Jill's pool table after dinner. But it tapered off. I woke up the next morning to Dr. Kurian's office postponing the ultrasound to Friday, which suited me just fine. I'd been drinking LOTS of water to make sure my fluid was good, but it's not like that would hurt me. I just had to pee a lot!

I kept feeling little pains off and on that day, which was exciting but I tried not to get too excited. I knew it could stop and I didn't want to get disheartened. So I tried to test Murphy's Law. I started making poultry stock with turkey and chicken carcasses. It takes six hours to make poultry stock and I figured that if this was real labor, it would interfere with my six hour time period and I'd much rather sacrifice a pot of stock (sad as it would be) in order to get the baby out! Around 3 p.m. I decided to start keeping track of the contractions seriously! And...you'll have to find out the rest in the next post! *grin*

40 weeks: I'm ready!

Well, Tuesday, Nov. 23rd is the big day! But only big-ish. Because Hunter may not come then. He probably won't. But that does mark the 9-months of active people-building on my part, which is pretty impressive. God lets us make our own people! How awesome is that?!?

So I would like to state that this pregnancy has officially been different than the last in that the last trimester has been MORE DRAMATIC THAN COULD EVER BE EXPECTED. --My photography business took off (a GOOD thing, but makes for a busy me!) and I am STILL editing shoots from my uber-busy October.
--John and I made some crucial financial decisions.
--We had to move on Nov. 6th (thank you landlords...), which is NOT what a nesting mama wants to do! We are still unpacking (and probably will be for awhile) but had some awesome people come help us out--friends and family which are all amazing in my book.
--My grandpa passed away yesterday.
--My grandma is very sick.
--Thanksgiving is Thursday.
--We found out that John has to go to Minnesota for manager training (good thing) in January (at least not this month or next month) for THREE WEEKS (bottom lip quivering).
I am officially ready to not have any more drama, good or bad. But I am ready to have this baby!

I am still editing the last two boudoir sessions I shot (the day before we moved, I should add). My plan/hope/wish is that I get all the photo stuff done and in client's hands before I have Hunter. Had we not had to move, that would have been nearly effortless, but having to stop all post-processing for packing and unpacking was a serious problem! Thankfully all my clients are extremely patient with me. <3

Tonight I finished packing everything for the hospital trip...the whole while thinking that this is DEFINITELY one of the reasons to have a baby at home. Ridiculous to do all this packing for a spontaneous trip that has no set length mere miles from my house. Ugh. But, then, I would have had to to about half of this packing anyway as a backup. So I am ready. We would have about half an hour of scurrying around the house collecting things like toothbrushes and cell phone chargers, but the bulk of it is done. Thank God.

We have Jack packed with sensible things like clothes and diapers, but also my childhood suitcase (that bears the phrase "going to grandmas" on the side) full of new little treats for him to enjoy/stuff to keep the grandparents sane while he really wants Mama. I bought him a picture book, a book called "If I Could Keep You Little" which makes me so sentimental I don't know if I'll ever read it to him, a set of Crayola Color Wonder markers and paper, a Thomas the Train DVD and a Thomas the Train book that plays music. AND a slew of plastic dinosaurs and we'll throw in trucks and cars last minute. I hope he enjoys them. :) I hope he goes to sleep for everyone fairly easily.

My little love has been so sweet when he's not a holy terror for being the age he's at. The social and verbal connections he's making blows me away, but he's still just a wee boy and still wants me to hold him. "Mama, hold you?"

When we go through animal sounds he'll start with, "Howwww bowwwwwt...a cow? Mooooooooooo!!!!! Howwww bowwwwt...a sheep? Baaaaaaaaa!!!"

When I found out grandpa died I cried for about half an hour. Jack came in and saw me, then said, "Right back, Mommy. Teh-EE bear." He found his white teddy bear and gave it to me to make me feel better. How sweet!

Last night when I tucked him in bed, I leaned down to give him a kiss. He grabbed both sides of my face and put my head near his nose, breathed in and said, "Mommy spmell nice." He kicked off his blanket (which he used to call "gank," then "ganket" and now it's "mangknet") but five minutes later asked for it back, whispering, "Please Mommy, mangknet." After I draped it over him he whispered, "Thank oooo, Mommy" and fell asleep.

Tonight he didn't want to sleep in his bed, but on the floor where I normally sit or lie down on another pillow next to his bed until he falls asleep. So we cuddled there and he told me how all the characters from the show "Kipper" were sleeping, individually. Then he put his hand on my cheek and fell asleep. :)

If he hears a sound from John or I when we're out of sight, he will come over to us and ask "Mommy/Daddy okay?"

He will often hug my tummy ("the baaaaaaby") and rub it or kiss it. Last night he showed Hunter his book and all the animals in it.

We have not tried to actively potty-train, but he's to the point now that he will tell me most of the time when he needs a new diaper. This only works if it's a pee diaper. If he poops, he'll hide and cry saying "Hurts!" because, obviously, if he doesn't tell me and I don't notice, it isn't comfortable for me to clean him when it's been there for a few minutes. I am looking forward to potty training him, but not worried about it for awhile, given the change of moving and the coming change of Hunter arriving.

I know this post is long. It's long for me, not you. Because I won't remember all of this stuff, but if I type it, I will remember it again later. So if you're still here, I'm going to talk about my pregnancy too.

I have finally reached a point that I'm getting weary of being pregnant. I really do love being pregnant, as I've said before, and I know I'm lucky because some women have a miserable time. Sometimes I'm miserable, but the good always outweighs the bad for me.

I love the small amount extra of attention.
I love the loose waistlines and no expectations for me to LOSE weight.
I love that I remember to take better care of myself because there is a helpless person inside me that needs that.
I love feeling the baby move, 'cause no one else can experience it like I can.

But I think I'm okay if he comes out now. My hips hurt a lot when I'm in any position for two long. It's hard to change position, especially in bed. Just today I've had to pee probably 20 times, each time just a trickle. That gets really old. Especially when it feels like OMG-if-I-don't-pee-I'll-just-die. And that's even more difficult when I have to heave my giant self out of our super-soft mattress to do it! Hunter is way TOO strong to be kicking me for very much longer. It's painful sometimes. I'm tired of sharp, stabbing pain here and there and WAY down there. I'm tired of heartburn that shows up BEFORE I eat. Seriously.

So, Hunter, you can show up anytime. Your Daddy has been anxious to hold you for weeks, especially this past week. Everyone's excited to meet you and I can easily psych myself out when I think about going through labor, so if you could just come, we could get it over with and I could just meet you and love you and feed you 10,000 times each day. And love it. Love you, tiny one.

38ish weeks: Running out of time?

So we've moved! We're at our new house, which is kinda close to the Desert Vineyard. It's nice and seems to be big enough to hold our stuff. The compromise has been in one less bedroom (yet more square footage) and closets about half the size in the non-master bedrooms (tear...). My house is a disaster, although I nearly have the "social areas" ready for the general public. The kitchen is nearly put together, minus random junk that I should just sweep into the trash since I can't remember what's still out till I look at it. The dining room table is set up and looks pretty--I can look at it and feel like there's some semblance of order here. The only real disasters are the office and the boys' room, but that shouldn't take too long to organize, given that I have help coming over soon! I am happy we've moved, although I keep going on "auto-pilot" to the old house.

I am not unhappy as a pregnant lady still, but more of a worrisome one. The baby is doing fine...Hunter is huge and strong and shows me nearly every moment that he's doing great. I am just antsy to get all my photo editing done so I can really, actually rest after I give birth and let my only care be the occasional bill and facebook updates for you nosy people out there. :) I am finishing one wedding, one birth, three family shoots and I think SEVEN boudoir shoots! October was really GOOD to me but this move really put a kink in my workflow! So I am letting my mind gel back into place here for a moment as pictures upload, then back to work!

Jack seems to be doing really well to the adjustment, even though he has gotten really bossy over the past few days. Lots of "Get me water, Mama." and "No! Move over!" So either our move has coincided with a burst of independence and brattiness or it's just the adjusting that is bringing out this curious side to him. If we go near the old house he shouts "Yay! Old house!" which makes me kinda sad. And other times he asks to go to the "New-d house" which kinda makes me laugh, since it basically sounds like "nude house." Which then makes me laugh at the irony since I'll be doing boudoir shoots here and--well, you get it. LOL!

As far as labor and delivery are concerned, I have half my hospital bag packed. I still need to get some essentials like comfy clothes and underclothes for myself. I have all the goodies for Jack's survival pack purchased, but need to get some snacks and such too. Oh, and pack clothes and diapers and all that crap. School the babysitters-to-be on car seat installation. Pray that I go into labor after Jack has already gone to bed and is exhausted enough to sleep till the morning. Stuff like that. Basically if I go into labor now, I'll be scurrying around for awhile getting stuff ready. It irritates me greatly that I HAVE to have a to-go bag since I really wish I was giving birth at home, but that's more of a wish like "I'd love to go skydiving sometime" than a "I am freaking out and can't handle this choice" at this time. *shrug* I'll just try to save up (ha!) for the next one so we can have a midwife for the third baby.

At home or in the hospital?

Now some of you have been waiting for an opportunity to weigh in on this sort of decision, since so many people called me crazy for having Jack at home. Unfortunately, the only thing putting this choice up for debate is money, or the lack thereof. I trust God to take care of us either way, but this is a source of stress for me, so perhaps talking about it will help me get through it or over it.

At home:
I loved loved LOVED having Jack at home. Not only was the idea novel in today's society, but I could stay at home, in familiar surroundings, with only our germs. No new people, no foreign atmosphere, no one following procedure over what I want or need. I can't say it was exactly peaceful when I was going through a contraction but I was surrounded only by people I chose to be there in my own house.
Many people criticize this method of birth because if something goes wrong, they say, it may be too late to get help in time. This seems to come from a mindset that no one is monitoring me at all while I'm in labor at home, and that's simply not true. Our midwife, Justine, was once an EMT and is now a licensed midwife of more than 200 successful births.
She monitored me by phone before arriving, came over once I'd reached a regular pattern to my contractions and checked on Jack via Doppler and me via pulse checks throughout my labor. She carefully studied my condition throughout labor and assisted in the crowning and birth, as well as directing us in what to do with the cord and later, birthing the placenta. She examined me after the birth, applying a couple stitches as needed. I took a little too long to stop bleeding, so she sent me to the hospital as a precaution, but by the time I got there, the problem had righted itself. She accompanied us to the hospital, remained there as long as I was there (most of my stay there was to recover from the Demerol they gave me...what a doozy) and came back to the house with us.
I never felt that in any way my safety was compromised, since Justine could recognize any signs of distress and act on them accordingly.
Our dilemma is actually purely monetary: the midwife fee went up and if health insurance covers it, it's on a reimbursement basis, so we still have to shell out the money, which we don't rightfully have.

At the hospital:
I know hospitals play a very important part in successful births, especially high-risk pregnancies. I do not discount the hospital staff's expertise or the mother's wisdom in choosing to have their babies there. I do feel, however, that many of their interventions are unnecessary and more for their own convenience.
It is not always necessary to give a woman pitocin to start labor or speed up labor just because nothing is happening. It's not always needed to ripen the cervix when dilation is not happening quickly. Epidurals are useful sometimes, but what you give the mom reaches the baby. It is horrible to make women push their babies out while lying flat on their backs, since that means you're essentially pushing your baby uphill, up the curve of your tailbone.
I want to be able to walk around, sit on a pilates ball during contractions, get in a tub, and not be tied down by machines and wires and people poking around where they don't need to be. I can only have two people with me (I had Justine, John (of course), Jaimie and Jana at my house for Jack's birth). Basically, I don't want people trying to boss me around and I don't want to deal with the anxiety of people telling me what they think I should do and me having to argue with them.
Honestly, I'm scared to go to hospital. I don't care how many people have gone there and had successful births. Going to the hospital is scarier to me than giving birth at home any day. But it could be practically free with John's new insurance.

I'm stressed out about this. Again, I know God will care for us, hospital or home, rich or poor--as He always has. I'm just picky and hope that if I have to go to the hospital that I can get over my own fears.

A good movie to watch if you want to better understand where I'm coming from: The Business of Being Born.

Pregnancy Update: Morning sickness started today, so I stayed home. And I had a splitting migraine since yesterday, which already shows me that this pregnancy is different, since I never had a headache with Jack. Vomiting with a migraine is definitely on my top ten of most horrible feelings. Pants are just a little tighter.