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35 Weeks Pregnant: “Lightening,” An Early Sign of Labor

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February 16 – February 22: 35 Weeks 0 Days – 35 Weeks 6 Days.

I found out Wednesday that the baby is head down, which sets us up for a vaginal birth! One more item to cross off the list of things to worry about.

35 Weeks Pregnant

35 Week Bump Update. When Richard took this picture he coached me, “Give me a happy smile, not a tired smile!” Activity is more exhausting these days, and sleep is challenging. Still, the third trimester continues to be my favorite part of pregnancy.

First Sign That Labor is Coming Soon-ish

A month ago, comments about how I looked like I could “pop” any time were irritating, but now I’m starting to feel that the baby could come soon, too. My belly is bigger than ever, and I think the baby has descended. One of my regular yoga students remarked that the baby was lower as soon as she saw me. For most of my pregnancy, it’s felt like I’ve had a stapled stomach because of how much the baby is pressing upward (everyone says I’ve been “carrying high”), but this week I’ve been unusually hungry. The baby descending into the pelvis is called “lightening,” but I don’t feel any lighter—actually, it feels like there’s a pile of bricks sitting on my pelvic floor and I have to consciously resist falling into the pregnant lady waddle.

I’ve heard that first-time babies are more likely to be born late, but according to this blog post that looks at the data, that’s not the whole story. The author concludes that first-time babies are less likely to be born on-time, and more likely to be born either early or late. The baby descending is one of the signs that labor is on the way. Some sources say babies will usually be born within two weeks of descending, some say “a few” weeks, some say four weeks, and there’s plenty of anecdotal evidence some babies born even later than that. So really, I don’t have any more information about when labor will start—she could be born early, on her estimated delivery date, or late. I haven’t had any Braxton-Hicks contractions (at least not that I’ve recognized as such) and I haven’t seen my mucus plug yet (other signs of pending labor), so I get the sense that the baby is not in an incredible hurry. Still, Richard and I have now got our hospital bag mostly packed, so we’re ready for her whenever she chooses to make her debut.

Baby dropped?

Depending on what I’ve been doing, sometimes the baby feels lower than at other times. Can you tell she’s descended since last week?

Ever More Body Changes

I walk much more slowly now, and can’t handle being on my feet for as long (although, my Better Belly Binder helps). I have to take hills in stages, stopping to rest once or twice in an uphill block. Richard loves it, because I’m typically a power-walker (even when I don’t have time constraints) and he always used to tell me to slow down and enjoy the journey.

Between me continuing to gain about a pound a week, and Richard putting in exerted effort to stop gaining sympathy weight, I’m finally heavier than him. My belly button is pretty flat, but it hasn’t popped into an outtie (although it does have a weird little neanderthal forehead lip that shows through my shirt), and I don’t have any stretch marks yet. I’m not holding out much hope for a stretch-mark-free pregnancy though—when I was a growing teen I had them everywhere, and they say no matter how much cocoa butter you use it just comes down to genetics.

Support From Strangers

The bigger I get, the nicer people are to me. Maybe by slow walking with hands supporting my belly sends the signal that I could use some support. We went to a stand-up comedy show last week, and the usher seated us at a table in one of the wings with a big comfy bench, then came back and gave me two extra pillows for back support. At first I was a little indignant, thinking I didn’t need the special treatment, but this guy clearly had experience with pregnant women. At this point, it’s difficult to sit comfortably in one position for any amount of time. Normally Richard and I sit right up front where we’ve had fun interacting with the comedians, but I was thankful to be out of the spotlight this time where I could frequently adjust and readjust my pillows, slip off my shoes, and switch from sitting on the bench, to sitting on a chair, to sitting back on the bench again. Richard and I take some time to affirm each other daily (one of the birth preparation exercises from Rachel Yellin’s class), and his affirmation to me after the show was, “I like that you don’t get caught up with what other people think—you’ll sit in yoga poses at comedy shows and do lunges on planes because that’s what your body needs, even if it’s weird.”

In one of my many bathroom breaks during the comedy show, I ended up in line behind two other women. One of them looked at my belly and said, “Ooh, I remember what that’s like. You’d better go first.” And, they both let me go ahead. Now that the baby is sitting lower, there is definitely more pressure on my bladder, so I appreciate the kindness!

Feeling Prepared

We took a newborn care class this weekend, and got hands-on practice diapering and swaddling on dolls, and we got to see how all the various baby wraps and carriers go on. The other information presented was a reaffirmation of what we’ve read and learned about in other classes, which made us feel prepared. Between each reading a different reference book on newborn care, taking a birth prep class, a breastfeeding class, and now this newborn care class, Richard and I are both pretty done with learning. I mentioned in a previous post that feeling prepared doesn’t mean we are prepared—but I think reaching this state of confidence, eagerness, and low-anxiety is worth a little delusion. Worry, doubt, and fear make for a difficult labor because they create resistance, so at this point I don’t see why I’d entertain these feelings around things I can’t control. So, if you have the urge to tell me, “You’ll never be prepared for what’s actually in store,” (with regard to childbirth or parenthood) how about trying, “I know you’ll figure it out. Pretty much everybody does!” instead. 

Update – A couple more thoughts on feeling prepared that came up in Facebook comments discussion: I understand that it’s true that I’ll never really be prepared, but I don’t see how dwelling on that fact at this point is useful. There’s nothing I can do with that information other than worry about things that may or may not happen and that I can’t control or change. If I said, “I’ve trained my butt off for my first marathon, I feel so pumped, and I’m going destroy it,” people would say, “Yeah you will! Go get ’em girl!” and give me a high five. No one would say, “Mmm, don’t be so confident. You’ve never done this before so you have no idea how intense it’s going to be.” Whereas when I make positive, confident statements about childbirth and parenthood, it’s the opposite: I get more deflating comments than ones that reinforce my energy. It seems like people think they’re imparting sage old advice, but by my ninth month of pregnancy I’ve heard the cliche adages countless times. What I really appreciate at this point are words of encouragement, as well as personal stories (even if they’re about challenging situations) in which friends share their experience without projecting it onto what it’s going to be like for me.

30 Weeks Pregnant: Things I Love About My (Early) Third Trimester

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January 12– January 18: 30 Weeks 0 Days – 30 Weeks 6 Days.

I think the beginning of my third trimester has been my favorite part of pregnancy so far. This may be partly because I finally started seeing a chiropractor—which providers and friends have been recommending for months—and my muscles and joints have been feeling much better than they were. Here are some other reasons I’m enjoying this stage of pregnancy:

1. I’m unmistakably pregnant, which is a prerequisite for many of the following perks.

2. People are incredibly nice and respectful. Goodbye catcalls. Hello strangers who ask genuine questions about my baby and my experience with pregnancy. Sometimes men still tell me I look great or beautiful, but it’s often at the end of a short conversation (instead of opening with “Hey gorgeous”), and doesn’t feel sexual, objectifying, or threatening. The next step for society is that we treat all women nicely and respectfully, not only the pregnant ones.

The teeny dark lining on this silver cloud is that sometimes people’s well-meaning or conversational comments are annoying. Many people’s opinions about how big pregnant women should be are informed by entertainment media, in which most women portrayed are in their second trimester. I’m not abnormally big, thanks. I’m just past the cute, photogenic stage of pregnancy that magazines like to publish.

30 Week Bump

30 week beach bump.

3. All the support I arranged months ago is kicking in. At this point my prenatal group sessions (equivalent of doctor’s appointments) meet every two weeks instead of once a month. It’s great, because it’s kind of like a support group.

We hired birth doulas (Britt Fohrman and Alexis Cohen) back in October, and we just had our first of two prenatal sessions with one of them. We didn’t talk much about our birth plans or preferences, but we discussed what Richard and I can do now to prepare mentally and physically for birth. If it’s not obvious from several of my type A blog posts, one of my challenges is letting go of control—a big barrier to natural birth. In our session, we discussed some techniques to help me practice surrendering control.

We also started our birth prep class with week, which was fun. On Britt and Alexis’ suggestion, we signed up for Rachel Yellin‘s Birth Prep Class, which focuses on relaxation, self-hypnosis, and other techniques for a achieving a natural birth (I will blog about my experience with the birth class once we’re done it in a couple weeks). Part of our homework (Or “home fun,” as Rachel calls it) is to spend a couple dedicated minutes a day bonding with and affirming our partner, which is really sweet.

4. I feel more comfortable asking for and receiving help. At no point in pregnancy has it felt great for me to do heavy lifting. Lifting is a whole-body action, and I always feel the brunt of the weight in the weakest link of the chain: the hypermobile joints in my pelvis. However, before I had a big belly I felt like I should’ve still been able to lift heavy objects, so it was harder for me to ask for help and I would often turn it down, even if it was offered.Richard has been giving me a hard time about this because doing too much manual labor inevitably leaves me complaining of aching joints and insomnia.

Maybe my aches and pains have been going on long enough that my will for independence has finally been crushed, maybe my obvious belly makes me feel entitled, maybe the conversations I’ve had about letting go of control have sunk in—in any case, I’ve been slowly accepting more and more help, especially from Richard. And, for the first time this week when the cashier at the grocery store asked if I needed help to my car, I accepted. However, I wasn’t quite ready to accept his repeated offers to help me get the groceries from my cart to the checkout conveyor belt (granted, grocery carts are deep when you’ve got a big belly in the way! P.S. So are top-loading washing machines)

5. I’m getting extra love, support and care from my partner. I don’t want to gush over my hubby too much, but I have to say I could not ask more a more dedicated partner. Day-to-day, he’s been incredibly willing to help me out physically. Although, he sometimes makes me explicitly ask for help (even if he knows I need it) so I can practice requesting what I need.

He’s also been prioritizing being present for birth-related stuff, while still attending to a career that provides for us and the baby. On Wednesday, we started the day with a two-hour meeting with our doula, he worked from home for the rest of the day, in the evening we went to a 3.5 hour birth prep class, then I drove him straight to the airport to catch a red-eye flight to New York that would land just in time for him to start work in the morning. Unlike the week-long business trips he’s taken in the past, this time he was back two days later to support me.

Our birth prep class is taught by a yogi-shaman-hypnotherapist, which is outside of Richard’s normal realm, but he was open-minded and accepting during class and has been on board with practicing techniques at home. That said, he was a little discombobulated by a questionnaire included inquiries like “What is your vision for birth?” and “What do you want your baby to feel during birth?”

6. It’s time to concretely prepare for the baby.

For me, the first trimester was rough, the second trimester involved a lot of watching and waiting, and the third trimester feels more action-packed. We’re meeting with our support team regularly, our nursery is well on its way to being assembled, and taking conscious time to bond with each other and the baby. It feels exciting that there are things to do. Here are a couple other action-items I’ve got on to do list:

  • Choose a pediatrician
  • Register ahead at the hospital (for less paperwork on the big day)
  • Figure out how to get a breast pump using my insurance
  • Buy a crib mattress (I have one all picked out, I’m just waiting until my Babies R Us reward dollars vest)
  • Complete nursery with smaller staples (e.g. nail clippers) and consumables (e.g. wipes) so we’re baby-ready
  • Pack a hospital bag
  • Write out my birth preferences
  • Keep brainstorming middle names (we agree on the first name, but the middle name is a continued issue of debate)

7. Superficial things bother me less.

I found out how mom’s start wearing mom-shoes. At this point in pregnancy, bending over to tie up my shoes is a chore and low-support shoes with slippery soles are a hazard. Frankly, supportive, slip-on shoes with grippy soles are not cute. At this point I don’t care. Today I’m wearing both compression stockings and Klogs, which I think may even be at the grandmother level of sensible attire.

Klogs and Compression Stockings

Compression stockings and Klogs. Sensible Attire Level: Grandma

10 Weeks Pregnant: Sharing the Joy (And Splitting My Pants)

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August 24 – August 31: 10 Weeks 0 Days – 10 Weeks 6 Days.

Forget waiting until twelve weeks. I finally announced on Facebook that I’m pregnant (I hated keeping the secret). Before I was pregnant, I foresaw myself being that pregnant lady who gets a photo in same position and clothing every single day and strings them together into a time lapse YouTube video after the baby is born. Turns out modeling in front of a camera is the last thing I feel like doing while nauseous, so I have very few photos of my first trimester. However, Wednesday morning I had a lull in my nausea, and I mustered up the wherewithal to snap a photo in our backyard to share on Facebook:

Pregnancy Announcement

It was so nice to share the news with friends and get some much-needed support and encouragement around the nausea and fatigue! Turns out I let the baby out of the bag just in time, because I couple days later I had quite an embarrassing event, and I don’t know how I would have coped if I hadn’t been able to share my chagrin on Facebook and laugh at myself with friends.

Saturday was a productive day: All morning I toured the most promising garage sales within a 45-minute drive, and came back with a carful of small furniture items we need for our new house. That afternoon I talked Richard into stopping off at some thrift stores to go desk shopping on our way to Lowe’s (we’ve been chipping away at a long list of home improvement projects we hope to complete before the baby is born). I was wearing a pair of green cargo capris, which were themselves bought from a thrift store years ago. The button at the top of the fly had been replaced by a safety pin, and many of the snaps that close the pockets had become detached; but, they rode low and weren’t skintight, so they were one of the few pairs of pants I still enjoyed wearing.

As I got back in the car after visiting our last thrift store I thought I heard something rip. I shifted from side-to-side and my pants felt intact, so I rationalized that I’d just imagined it. Our next stop was a decorative hardware store, which we were disappointed to find was closed for the long weekend. As passersby strolled behind us on the sidewalk, Richard and I alternately stood on tiptoes or bent over to peer through the windows at the various options they had for faucets and sinks. This time when I got back into the car, I definitely heard something rip. I felt around to my butt and shrieked. There was an enormous split in my pants that ran from my waistband to my mid thigh, completely exposing my lacy lavender panties. When I divulged what had happened to Richard, he howled with laughter and couldn’t stop.

I haven’t gained that much weight during pregnancy—maybe three or four pounds. However, I haven’t been exercising nearly as much, so, because muscle is heavier than fat, I could have easily lost a chunk of muscle and packed on a greater volume of fat to my butt and thighs without gaining an ounce of weight. I’ve had good control over my weight for the last thirteen years, so this kind of temporary shift wouldn’t normally bother me. I gained ten pounds on my ten-day honeymoon in Hawaii; instead of freaking out and enacting a rigorous diet and exercise program when I got home, I simply went back to my normal habits and calmly lost the weight as quickly as I’d gained it. However, something about my butt busting through a hearty fabric like khaki was too much for a pregnant lady to handle.

I saw the humor in what had happened and I was laughing along with Richard, but it was the type of laughter that was a dam restraining a deluge of tears. When he suggested I tie a sweater around my waist so we could still go to Lowe’s, I think he could tell that dam was a about to burst. He didn’t argue when I insisted we go buy me a new pair of pants immediately, and that he come with me for emotional support instead of just dropping me off at the mall. I picked out a pair of loose, low-riding, boyfriend-cut pajama pants, which got me through the rest of our errands.

A day or two later, we went shopping for my first pair of proper maternity pants.

Maternity Pants

My first pair of maternity pants.

6 Weeks Pregnant: Secrets

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July 27 – August 7: 6 Weeks 0 Days – 6 Weeks 6 Days.

I was already feeling guilty that I’d told the woman at the baby clothing store I was pregnant before I told Richard, but that was just the beginning of a long-standing trend. We would be visiting my family in Canada soon and seeing Richard’s dad in Northern California after that, so we agreed to wait until at least after we told our families in person to announce our pregnancy to the rest of the world. Of the friends I saw in person before we officially announced, it would be quicker to list who I didn’t tell than who I did tell. I can only think of two occasions that I mustered up the willpower to keep the secret. The only way I could resist telling people was to avoid seeing them face-to-face. Richard was annoyed with me because every day I would come home with stories about other people I’d told (my best friend from home, an acquaintance I met for tea, the woman down the hall I barely know), while he’d continued to keep the burning secret.

I hated keeping my pregnancy under wraps. Obviously everyone has different strategies and different coping mechanisms, but here are some reasons I may not even try to keep it a secret next time ’round:

  • Guilt factor. There are already enough guilt-triggers during pregnancy. I’m supposed to eat leafy greens, but after I choke down one or two broccoli florets and a brussels sprout, my nausea kicks in and the rest of the veggies get pushed to the edge of my plate. I’m not supposed to take hot baths, but baths relieve my nausea and help me relax before bed. The last thing I need is to feel guilty for sharing my joy and excitement with others.
  • Support if things go wrong. Women are told to keep their pregnancy a secret for the first trimester because the rate of miscarriage is higher during that time. What’s the underlying implication here? I can think of a couple possibilities, and I’m not really a fan them. Keep your pregnancy a secret because you might miscarry and…
    • Miscarriages are shameful/your fault/something to be embarrassed about. I don’t want any part in perpetuating this weird stigma around miscarriage. I’m grateful for the stories people have shared with me about miscarriage because they help me accept that miscarriages are a real possibility, that they can happen to anyone, that life goes on, and that you can always try again.
    • You don’t want to burden anyone with news of a miscarriage. If I miscarried, I would definitely reach out to people for support. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t handle hearing that someone miscarried. Just as I’m happy to have conversations with my friends about boyfriend woes, or a sick parent, or an injured back, I am more than happy to listen and support when the topic is miscarriage. Even if I don’t know the person well, I can give the generic response, “I’m so sorry to hear that. How are you doing?” I expect that most grown-ups can withstand the news of a miscarriage.
    • It would be too awkward/painful to make a pregnancy announcement and then have to make a miscarriage announcement. Given that I would reach out to friends for support if I miscarried, I think it would be less awkward to text someone, “I miscarried. Can we get coffee?” than “I know you didn’t know I was pregnant, but I was, and now I miscarried. Can we get coffee?” I can see being uncomfortable to post a miscarriage status on Facebook, so I might avoid announcing online immediately. But I can’t help but think that the discomfort arises from the latent stigma and guilt associated with the previous two points. People post about break-ups, family member deaths, and personal illness (Does “Sick and tired of being sick and tired” sound familiar) all the time on social media. One friend recently chronicled the week-long death of her cat, and got oodles of love and support. What makes miscarriage different?
  • Support if things go right: If you’re nauseated, fatigued, bloated, constipated, have hemorrhoids, and cry on a regular basis, things are going right. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. I appreciated and needed the friends who told me, “It get’s better in the second trimester!” and reminded me, “It’s totally worth the gift you get at the end.” Reaching out to broader networks sooner would have given me more access to mamas who have been there.
  • Ability to use affirming language: Much of what’s wrong with pregnancy and childbirth in the North America is that they are considered a health problems that require medical intervention. Rather than reinforcing that idea in myself, it is important to me that I treat pregnancy and childbirth as normal, healthy, safe physiological processes. Unfortunately, the most obvious excuse to explain away intrusive first trimester symptoms is, “I’m sick.” I said this a couple times, and it felt awful to cast my pregnancy as something I needed to “get better” from. There were a couple days the nausea hit me pretty hard and I wanted to reach out to find last-minute subs for my yoga classes, but I couldn’t bring myself to put “I’m sick” into writing.

Satya, which means truthfulness in Sanskrit, has been a front-runner for our baby’s middle name if we have a daughter. With how much I’ve disliked keeping my pregnancy a secret, it’s feeling more right than ever!

18 Weeks Pregnant: Pregnancy Firsts

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October 20 – October 26: 18 Weeks 0 Days – 18 Weeks 6 Days.

My eighteenth week of pregnancy was a week of firsts:

First Round Ligament Pain

Unknowingly at the time, Jane Austin‘s Prenatal Yoga Teacher Training was one of the best things I did to prepare for pregnancy. I took it years ago, but it permanently shifted my perception of pregnancy and birth from unknown and scary to natural and empowering. We read books like Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and watched videos of real labors and births (which can be completely different from what we see on TV and in movies). We also came to understand the changes that occur in a pregnant woman’s body so we could form sequences of yoga poses that could help alleviate discomfort and prepare women for labor and birth. A piece of this training came back to me in the middle of the night this week.

I woke up uncomfortable (which is getting to be a usual occurrence), and as I rolled over and yelped as I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my right lower abdomen. My first thought was, Oh my God, I have a hernia. My intestines definitely just burst through my abdominal wall. I worriedly palpated my abdomen, but didn’t feel any odd bulges. My second thought was, Wait, didn’t Jane Austin say something about pain in the ligaments that support the uterus? That’s one of the reasons pregnant women aren’t suppose to sit straight up… I reached for my phone, Googled “uterus ligament pain pregnancy,” and was displayed a list of websites about round ligament pain naming the exact symptoms I’d just experienced. Unless the pain persists, it’s relatively harmless.

I’m so grateful that tidbit of information from Jane’s training stuck, or I’d have been up all night worrying (and probably Googling much scarier things).

First Baby Kick!

While I was teaching yoga, I demoed supta baddha konasana (reclined butterfly pose). As my knees opened and my lower abdomen broadened, I felt a little pop below my belly button. It wasn’t painful, it felt like a little tiny fist without much strength behind it had socked me from the inside. It was pretty neat, and made the baby immediately seem more real. When I went to my appointment later in the week, the midwife heard a kick on the fetal heart rate monitor, so I’m pretty sure that what I felt while teaching yoga was indeed the baby. I haven’t felt much else since, but chances are the baby’s movements are such an unfamiliar sensations that I don’t recognize them yet.

First Group Prenatal Session

Saint Luke’s, the hospital I plan to give birth at, has the option of doing prenatal sessions individually or in a group of women with similar due dates. This week was my first group prenatal session, and I loved it! At the begin, we recorded our own weight and blood pressure, which I enjoyed as a subtle way to take ownership or my own health and body. Then, we each got a couple minutes of one-on-one time with a midwife off to the side to listen to our baby’s heartbeat and ask personal questions. The rest of the session was in a group setting, wherein we discussed the discomforts of pregnancy (we focus on a different topic every time). It was great to get the midwife’s professional opinions on information from articles and books I’d read and to discuss solutions with other women experiencing the similar changes. I’m looking forward to my next sessions!

First Week Fending for Myself

Richard has been reading The Birth Partner, and has been taking its advice to heart. Already, he’s been trying to support me in any way I need, which usually means making me snacks. That made it especially lonely when he was away on business the whole week. It wasn’t that hard to be alone, but it accented what a wonderful luxury it is to have a supportive partner who will cut up mangoes for me, rub cocoa butter on my belly, and voluntarily carry my purse and all the shopping bags for me when I’m tired. Needless to say, I glad to have him back and I’m trying not to use up all his goodwill before I really need it.

18 Weeks

Eighteen weeks pregnant. I’m wearing a maternity shirt, but I still don’t have much of a bump to fill it out.

(I love the shirt I’m wearing above because it’s got a peek-a-boob feature so it can double as a nursing top when the baby arrives. I’m much more willing to spend money on something that I can wear for more than just a few months! Here’s the link to the Etsy store I bought it from, if anyone is interested).