Of Contractions and "Cankles"

So earlier this week I had some contractions... not the Braxton-Hicks ones they tell you about where your tummy gets SUPER TIGHT (you could bounce a coin off of it easily)... no these are the ones the books and websites say to call your doctor about if you have them prior to 37 weeks (I'm finishing week 35 right now). They start in your lower back like a menstrual cramp and then wrap around your belly and then your belly tightens. Fun. Yep. Super. So I wake up at 5:50 am and begin timing them at 5:52 am and keep timing them until 8:00 am when the doctor's office opens. Now I CAN call before they open, but I also know that they are not frequent enough or consistent enough to totally freak out, so I wait until 8:00 and then call because, duty bound by literature, I'm prior to 37 weeks.

When my doc calls me back I say... "uh yeah, so I've beeh having contractions since about 10 'til 6." His response? "Fabulous!" and then silence (I love my doctor... seriously, I do, he cracks me up). So I say "uh huh?..." And he laughs, "oh, of course you're wondering what you should do now!?" (yeah... kinda why I'm calling here). "Nothing!" he nearly shouts, "well, not nothing... but honestly, I'm sorry to say this, these could go on for weeks. So keep track of them and call me if they get worse, but this could seriously go on for a while." WEEEEEKS!!!!??? Helloooooo. No one mentioned this part. I thought contractions were the beginning of the end, you know? I know there's "false labor" (Braxton-Hicks) - which is actually a misnomer, there's nothing false about them, they are practice and they are to get your cervix into place and all... but I digress - but I'd never heard about contractions going for WEEKS.

Well kids, they can. You see your happy little uterus starts contracting way before you'll actually notice it and some women never notice them until they are the "real" ones. But 3-4 weeks before you have a baby your cervix starts moving around ("ripening" they call it) and thinning and that's what these contractions might be. Lovely... because I'm not grumpy and uncomfortable enough, now I can look forward to weeks of this shit.

You know the only awesome part about the whole thing... my hubby's reaction. He was SO calm. He rolled over that morning to see me with my handy-dandy notebook tracking contractions and just said, "is everything okay? do you need to call the doc?" Seriously... calm as hell. Ready to grab bags, call folks and head to the hospital. I love this man. He will be fabulous when I'm in labor.

So now I'm in day 4 of this contracting stuff and getting used to it. It doesn't go on all the time and doesn't always hurt. I'm just trying to rest as much as possible. In the meantime, I'm experiencing yet another fun part of pregnancy... swelling. Oh yeah, that's attractive. Today my boss tells me that she wants me to work the rest of the day from home because she's worried about me and I have no idea what she's talking about. She tells me to look at my feet (something I don't see much of these days). And now I see why she's worried. I have "cankles." No nice separation between calf, ankle and foot... just one swollen cankle. Eeeeeeew. This is why pregnant women resort to only wearing flip-flops at the end (I'm preferring large soccer slides). Nothing is more disgusting than seeing "cankles" shoved into shoes. So I get home, start GUZZLING water and put my feet up while I work... it helps... the cankles are resembling (resembling, not back to) normal sized feet and ankles.

Good god... now I know why women want it over with at the end. I'm rapidly approaching that stair-climbing, castor-oil-drinking, spicy-food-eating, get-this-freaking-thing-out-NOW pregnant lady. God help my husband and those near me.

This is NOT going to be good...

So I had a moment this past week that made me think that perhaps I won't be the calmest woman in labor and that my husband had better stay out of arm's reach.

This past Wednesday night I had some MAJOR pains running down my left side from the middle of my belly down to my groin area. The only way I can describe the pain was that it was like the WORST runner's stitch-in-the-side I've ever had multiplied by 100. I was literally moaning/yelling in pain and couldn't ease it with any position or activity - sitting, standing, walking, lying down, curled in a ball, on all fours... nothing stopped this pain. It got bad enough that I had my husband call the on-call doctor (by the time the freakin' voice mail went through our many options, the pain was subsiding). But in that moment as I writhed around screaming "F!@*" at the top of my lungs I realized... I don't think I'm going to be good at this labor thing. I can't even handle whatever this stupid pain was, how on earth will I handle contractions?

My mother told me (when I was telling her I wasn't sure who I wanted in the delivery room with me) that she discovered that she really just wanted to be alone in labor and that the sight of her husband (my wonderful step-dad) just made her angry. I'm thinking I might be the same. As my husband knelt down to try to help me and put his hand on my belly... I had to try VERY HARD to resist the urge to punch, kick, swat and push him far, far away from me. In fact, I may have had him call the doc just to give him something to do that did not involve standing near me. I have never felt so violent in my life. It was crazy. And now, more than ever, I'm thinking I'll want the epidural plus anything else they can give me during delivery so that I won't tear my husband, the doctor and/or the room apart. I'm hoping I'm wrong. While I think I'll still ask for an epidural, I'm hoping that a combination of yoga breathing, my ipod and labor & delivery classes will help me be somewhat less crazy, but I'm having my doubts now.

I've had many mommy friends tell me about their labors and some were quiet, some cried, some screamed and some (eerily enough) were totally silent & focused. I was hoping to at least be focused (I'm pretty sure silent isn't an option for me)... but now I'm thinking I won't even be able to focus. I was an irrational beast during one, albeit long, horrible pain i was having. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything. My happy little advice book talks about how women have harder labors when they fight it and that it's better to visualize the pain as a waive to ride through. Ummmm...okay, nice idea and all, but I'm somehow thinking that I'll forget that nice wave theory and forget to breath when I'm popping out something the size of a small-medium butterball turkey, you know? I'm thinking I'll just want to kick the crap out of the nearest innocent by-stander. Someone gave my husband the advice to "stay high by her head and stay out of arms reach" while I'm in labor... and I believe that man may be a genius.

I'm sure I'm having a very normal, holy-crap-what-is-this-going-to-be-like, new mommy moment in my pregnancy... but it is not fun. I keep getting friends and strangers alike ask me if I'm excited and frankly... I'm terrified. Sure, excitement is buried in there somewhere, but mostly, I'm terrified. You see, I'm a planner. I make lists, charts, spreadsheets, do research, etc. I stretch, warm up, practice, set goals, etc. But there's no preparation for this. I have NO IDEA how my labor will feel, how long it will be, how easy/hard it will be. So I CANNOT prepare. And let me tell you... for a type-A, plan ahead, always-in-control person, not being able to prepare is terrifying. The unknown is terrifying.

Of course, now that I think about it... my husband should be more terrified. He has no idea who will show up in that delivery room. Will it be crying Mariska? Yelling Mariska? Or crazy, out-of-control, violent, bellowing Mariska? Poor man... I sure hope those labor & delivery classes have as much advice for him as it has for me. And I sure hope he remembers to "stay high and out of reach..." :)

I know we'll laugh about it someday...

Home Stretch...Stretch being the operative word here

My doctor reminds me every time I see him now (which is every two weeks and soon to be every week)that I am in the "home stretch." Well, stretch is the operative word here, kids, because good LORD am I getting big. I'm outgrowing some of my maternity clothes (super, just what i need is to buy more clothes when I only have a few weeks left) and my belly button has disappeared. In fact, my belly button is rapidly approaching the point where it will pop out like a turkey timer (yes, ask other women who have done this, this can happen!). I've been informed by not only friends & co-workers, but even the on-call doctor and nurse I saw when they thought I was in pre-term labor (long story) that I look like I'm carrying a perfectly round basketball under my clothes.

Comments these days about my size range from "boy you look like you're about to pop!" (not what someone with 8 weeks left to go wants to hear) to "boy you're all baby, aren't you?" and "he's just all out there in front now, isn't he?" My personal favorite came from my very blunt doctor who said, "well you're measuring big, but then you're short with no torso so it could be just that he has no where to go but out." Lovely. Thanks.

Here's the bitch about being in the home "stretch" stretching part about this... this has really been an easy pregnancy up til now. No more! Nope, now sitting, walking, getting up, sitting down, lying down, sleeping (or trying to) are all ordeals. I'm up to 3-4 pillows in bed each night (i'd start stealing from the dogs if they had pillows... already stealing from my hubby) and at times the couch is the only place I can sleep. Whenever I get up from a chair at work or at home I feel gravity pull on this basketball of mine (or else little William decides to re-adjust onto my bladder) and I have to pause and wait for the pain, stretching, moving, whatever stops. This makes people around me nervous (especially at work), like they're afraid they're going to have to play catcher and catch a little one coming out. I try to reassure folks that every movement I make these days is just a little slower, stranger, more uncomfortable or more painful... but they still look at me as though they'd rather I hide away for these last few weeks so they don't have to watch my very awkward movements.

The other lovely part about my size... my tummy is now a catch all. While this is convenient when I need a TV tray for my ice cream bowl or drink, it's a bitch when it becomes the shelf onto which crumbs, juice, oil and other assorted foods/beverages find their final resting spot. That is until I look down and see the collection of items sitting there and start brushing away at my belly like a madwoman. Not long ago my husband and I went to Mongolian Grill for dinner and when I got home my shirt (or that portion stretched over my basketball) was just splattered with assorted sauces (plum, soy and sesame being my best guesses). It looked like I had splashed myself in sauce rather than putting it on my food. At this point I just need to cut a hole in a large garbage bag, put it over my head and wear it as a full-coverage bib. Either that, or I'd better start dining in a rain coat and hip waders.

Oh god... and one last thing. I'm so big that my toes are now foreign to me. I'm not only talking about not being able to see them... no kids, I can't even reach them. My very sweet husband, after watching me groan and twist in what must have been a horrid and/or comical attempt to reach them, has now not only helped me paint the toes once, but later remove said paint. Needless to say... I have a manicure this Thursday. My husband is sweet... but the poor man is doing enough, he should not have to paint my toes! But I appreciate the fact that he's actually WILLING to.

Gotta love this adventure. Let's see just how much longer it lasts.

And so begins the unsolicited advice...

I'm in the home stretch kids... 11 weeks left to due date and I am, well, terrified. Yes, I'm excited too, but frankly I'm mostly scared at the moment. Mostly about that big unknown Labor & Delivery. I keep reading about it (that does NOT make it better, I may stop doing that) and my classes won't be for another month, so I have to wait.

The other fun part about this stage... I'm getting huge. So huge in fact that there is no doubt I'm pregnant. And so begins the Unsolicited Advice Police... usually comprised of grumpy old ladies who apparently feel that we moms these days have it way too easy, are too wimpy or are too fat.

You see these ladies (most of whom haven't given birth since 1930-1950-something) hail from a day where you "hid" pregnancy, where there were no drugs available and where you were only encouraged to gain 17-20 pounds (must have been part of the attempt to hide it). The pregnant body was not a lovely thing and women were to buck up and shut up about it. These are the ones who tell you what NOT to buy or eat at the grocery store, who come up to you and touch your belly without asking, and who lecture you on either proper delivery or proper child rearing.

I ran into my most annoying GOLUSAP (Grumpy-Old-Lady-Unsolicited-Advice-Police) while having to do my glucose screening for gestational diabetes. She was the phlebotomist who was taking my blood. Let me preface this by saying I'm now in the uncomfortable part of this pregnancy. He's pressing up against my rib cage or pushing down hard on my hips and I'm moving a lot slower.

So this GOLUSAP calls my name (mispronounced of course) and I'm rising somewhat slowly from my chair as my legs are bothering me this particular morning. She calls out in her best drill seargant snap "Come On! Stand up Tall!" NOT the thing to say to me at 7:30 a.m. So I approach her with all 5'1.5" of me under control and just replied "Sorry, this is as tall as it gets." Those of you who know my propensity for sarcasm can now imagine the tone I used in this sentence.

THEN, not to be outdone, as I'm walking down the hall she says "Tight buns now. There's no need to waddle. You don't need to waddle yet." EXCUSE ME?! I had read about this in The Girlfriends Guide to pregnancy, how older women will encourage you to walk with your butt tight at all times to prevent waddling (another part of hiding it)... but here was this old bitch saying it out loud. I just shot her a nasty look over my shoulder (if you've seen the bitchy half-smile i give to people who have just pissed me off, you know the look) and continued to WADDLE down the hall.

I am NOT, I repeat NOT, with my tired legs and my occasionally sore sciatica, going to walk around getting butt cramps to please these little old ladies who feel that we women today just show off our pregnancies too much. I'm carrying this child, I'm enjoying this experience, I was the one in discomfort that morning and I will DAMN WELL WADDLE WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT!

And to all you other GOLUSAPS out there I have more to say:
I will be gaining more than 20 lbs (I'm on track for about 40 and my doctor is thrilled! He discourages weight gain in the 25lb range and prefers 30-40 lbs)
I will most likely take advantage of the epidural during delivery
I will indeed waddle
I will proudly go out in public with my huge tent shirts and preggo pants no matter how big I get
I will eat honey (yes, I asked my doctor first)
I will take baths (there's a difference between baths & a hot tub)
I will eat spicy foods (I've been assured there's no danger)
I will have to return to work because we cannot afford to have me home
And I may have a cup of coffee from time to time (doc says I'd be fine with two cups a day, which is more than I can handle even non-pregnant)
Do NOT touch my belly without asking
Do NOT tell me I look ready to pop
Do NOT give me your child rearing theories (i like the job my mother did, so I already have a plan, thank you!)
and DO NOT tell me how to walk, sit, deliver quietly, deliver loudly, lose the weight after birth, who to let in the delivery room with me and how rough you had it.

I'm sorry you had no drugs. I'm sorry the world was unfair to women in those days and I'm sorry we pregnant ladies have so many more options on clothing these days. But I'm doing this my way, ladies, my way!

Now excuse me... I must waddle to the kitchen for some food. :)

Move! Move!

These are words I find myself uttering a lot lately... but in two totally different contexts. The first is in the paranoia that comes with pregnancy apparently. I find myself paranoid about everything from food to early labor to never finding childcare, but the biggest worry right now is when my son stops moving. Because he has been so active lately, I freak on a quiet day. Yesterday he barely moved at all and I found myself poking, pushing at and shaking my belly often yelling "move! move!" He would humor me with a kick or two and then go right back to whatever it was that he was doing that did not involve moving. Already... he's rebelling against me. My assistant, a non-parent, is often amused and somewhat disturbed at the sight of me poking my belly and commanding movement from my child. He asked if I should be poking myself at which point I replied, "look dude, if the doctor can push and pull and poke and prod without hurting him, I'm thinkin' I can too. there's a ton of cushion in there anyway."

The second version of "move! move" is when he seems to be sitting on, kicking, poking or irritating some spot inside. For example, in the last four days something has changed about his size, position or both that has made me go from relatively comfortable to often feeling like I can't breathe because something is crowding my sternum and hurting my rib cage. At this point I find myself pushing whatever it is I feel there down and away from my ribcage saying, "move! move!". Othertimes it almost feels like he is settled too low and I get strange parallel pains on each side of my pelvis that make me feel like he's sitting on... jeez, I don't know what. But it doesn't feel good. So at that point I find myself lifting up my belly and commanding the all too familiar "move! move!"

I get the feeling that I best just get used to the discomfort. I'm only 3 months away from delivery now and getting bigger each day. My lovely innie belly button has stretched to near non-existance (that's the strangest thing to be belly-buttonless) and I'm a definite waddler now. No walking normally for me. Getting up and sitting down is getting more difficult, lying down comfortably in bed is getting more difficult and getting in and out of a vehicle is more difficult. So I think it's just that time.

Can't complain too much, though. All-in-all pregnancy just isn't bad at all. At least mine has not been. I have so many friends who are also preggo who are having a hell of a time and there I am, just pretty much enjoying myself. I have stretching pains every now and then, and it's annoying to be so overheated that I can actually warm those who stand near me and I may have some minor discomfort, but really... I'm enjoying this. My hair looks awesome, my nails are great, I'm LOVING food (yes, still freakin' Carmello bars), I love wearing clothes that don't make me paranoid about looking fat because I already know I am. It's fun. It really is. Now god, nature, fate or karma may have just been tempted by my last statement to make these last 3 months terrible, but somehow I doubt it. I think I'm just one lucky momma...

STOP THE MADNESS!

Okay, so the cravings are really out of hand. I know I've had my crazy pregnant lady moments before this... but I'm feeling really, REALLY crazy lately. Yesterday I had another MAD Carmello bar craving (no other chocolate bar seems to do the trick). Before I was pregnant and when I was losing a bunch of weight, I would satisfy cravings by having just a little of what I wanted. Tried that yesterday with the Carmello bar - unfortunately pregnancy negates all rationality. I had a small caramel filled Hershey's kiss thinking this might help the craving. Uh... no. Not only did it not help, but the craving became worse and I spent from 3:00-5:00 at work yesterday with a thought process something akin to... "is this loan priced right?-Carmello bar-getting tired-Carmello bar-didn't finish this loan will have to-Carmello bar-finish it tomorrow-Carmello bar-what question do I-Carmello bar-have to ask underwriting again?-Carmello bar" AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!

After work I promptly hopped into my new Ford Escape (which would normally be the talk of my life, but I'm too obsessed with this baby and food) and drove right over to the Chevron mini-mart and purchased two, yes two, KING SIZE Carmello bars. The smarty-ass clerk smirked at me (keep in mind his normal belly was larger than my pregnant one) and said "cravings?" Were I in my usual, sane state I would have come back with some witty, sarcastic, retort... but my eyes and mind were on my Carmello bar and I just smiled back and said "oh you can tell?"

Now, be proud of me, I did NOT eat both said Carmello bars on the drive home. I actually stashed the other and put it in my desk drawer today where it remained safe from my cravings... until 3:00 (must be the magic Carmello bar hour for me). However, at 10:00 this morning I got a new craving that I almost actually gave in to. Pancakes. Don't ask me why... but they sounded like heaven. I nearly went to McDonald's for their hotcakes when I realized that I was so behind in my work and that a pancake break, even for a nutty pregnant woman, was out of the question. I ate my freakin' boring oatmeal and granola bars and sucked it up. But I'm telling you... this weekend, it's pancakes.... :)

New, crazier cravings and eating, eating, eating

So my cravings are getting crazier... and by crazier I don't necessarily mean that they are weird, I just mean the intensity is out of control. First and foremost I crave Macaroni and Cheese... homemade, restaurant, orange crap from a box, microwave version - it doesn't matter. And when a craving hits it's so intense that it is ALL I can think about. I will lose focus on anything else until I get what I'm craving. My other craving... chocolate bars, particularly Carmello bars (yummy Cadbury chocolate FILLED with gooey caramel).

Today at work I became so obsessive about the damn chocolate bars that I walked to the nearby Chevron mini-mart to buy, not one... but two. And god love my husband, I could not shut up about the damn craving, so when I arrived home tonight I discovered he had bought me two more. What's funny is that in the middle of the mad I-want-a-Carmello-bar craving at work, my newest-mommy-friend (who is an endless source of advice, comfort and laughs), mentioned the Mac & Cheese craving and that she had Easy Mac at her desk. Suddenly Mac & Cheese won out over chocolate and I begged a package of it from her and had a bowl of Easy Mac. Once that craving was satisfied, the desire for the chocolate returned and I took my walk (with aforementioned new-mommy friend who understands my current craziness) and bought the chocolate.

Now keep in mind the Mac & Cheese was eaten at 3:00, the chocolate bar at 4:30. By arriving home at 5:20 I was already STARVING again and looking for more food. My appetite is just nuts right now. My little What To Expect When You're Expecting book says that at this point my appetite should be "healthy." Ummm... they should change that adjective to VORACIOUS because my appetite is WAY beyond healthy right now. The other night I even got up in the middle of the night and had a snack because my hunger was so strong it WOKE ME UP.

Speaking of which I'm doing that losing focus thing and must now go make a gigantic pan of homemade mac & cheese. Perhaps I'll snack on a chocolate bar while it cooks...