Tag Archives: pregnancy

36 Weeks Pregnant: Thoughts About Labor

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February 23 – March 1: 36 Weeks 0 Days – 36 Weeks 6 Days.

The third trimester is supposed to be slow, or at least the last month of it. For me, time is passing faster than ever. Upon writing this, I can’t believe I’m already in my creeping up on my 38th week! (Or that I’m so behind of writing this blog post)

As work has wound down, I’ve begun to do more exercise and yoga for myself, which has been fantastic. I’ve been doing prenatal pilates once or twice a week since the beginning of my second trimester, and when I started seeing the chiropractor I began a daily gentle exercise routine that I do as part of my bedtime wind down. Now I’ve added on a prenatal yoga class (or two) a week, and an early-morning swim on the weekend. When I’m in my bikini (I didn’t bother to buy a pricey one-piece maternity swimsuit), it’s obvious that I’m pregnant; my navel is partially inverted and my belly’s skin is taut and shiny like one those rubber balls Walmart sells. It’s inevitable that I end up having a half-clothed conversation in the women’s locker room about pregnancy or birth, which is welcome and sweet—except for the woman who exclaimed, “It’s going to be twins!”

www.thriveabilitysf.com

Even though my legs and arms are getting a little scrawny, I feel more aligned and fitter than I have at any other point in my pregnancy. Fit doesn’t mean what it used to though. I may feel especially healthy because I’ve come into acceptance of my limitations. For every minute of exercise I do, I need an equally long nap (or longer). And household chores count as exercise—I can only handle about one big chore a day, especially ones that involve bending over and lifting. The baby shifts up and down, but sometimes her head feels like it’s right against my cervix, which make my lower belly feel incredibly heavy and my pelvic joints ache. When walking, I have to take small slow steps or I get a shooting spasm down my inner thigh. This happens sometimes when the baby moves, too, so she’s probably compressing a nerve.

Now that I’m working less and less, I have time to accommodate for these discomforts, so it’s not so bad. And, what’s going on doesn’t feel unhealthy: it’s amazing that the baby is exploring her exit route, and I’ve been trying to avoid sending her negative signals. In her yoga classes, Britt Fohrman sometimes has us exhale with a joyful, sensuous “Mmmm…” sound, as if we’ve just had a delectable bite of our favorite sumptuous dessert (a birth technique). When the baby causes me discomfort, I try to respond with this technique instead of tensing up and groaning. However, with the shooting inner thigh spasm, it usually comes out as, “ArrrgmmMmmm…”

I’m hoping that staying active and practicing birth techniques when I get aches and pains now will set me up for a smooth labor. I used to visualize myself having a quick labor. I know I’m going to regret saying this, but with all the prep Richard and I have done now, it would be a little disappointing to have a superfast labor with no time to use the techniques we’ve learned. Also, I’ve heard a few birth stories from women who have had fast, intense labors, and apparently it’s mind-boggling to have earlylabor-activelabor-pushing-baby in a matter of hours—there’s no time to come into full acceptance of what’s happening. Now I visualize myself having a smooth, average-length labor, in which there’s time to experience each phase.

Contrary to most of the crisis-situation portrayals of labor in TV and movies, things usually start slowly with mild surges (contractions) that gradually get closer together, longer, and more intense (although there are always exceptions!). Most women don’t have to rush to the hospital upon their first contraction. I plan to labor at home for as long as possible (which is also the hospital’s preference. They’ll send me home if I show up too early).

All sources that I’ve read or heard tell women to sleep as much as possible early on while labor surges are still mild and spaced out. There are different opinions on what to do if I can’t sleep. My doulas and childbirth prep class teacher (both hypnobirthing-focused) say I should start practicing my birth techniques early. Natural Hospital Birth, a book I read several months ago, says that using coping strategies too early may burn me out on them, and by the time I really need them, they wont be effective any more. The author recommends coming up with a list of early labor activities to distract myself while the surges aren’t dominating my attention. I think it would be nice to do something in between: choose some gentle activities to do in between surges, and pause to practice my breathing and relaxation techniques during surges. I tried to come up with activities focus more on connecting me to my experience than distracting myself from it, and on getting me out of my analytic mind and into my intuition. Here are some of my favorite ideas on my Early Labor Activities list:

  • Art therapy. A couple months ago I tried a wonderful art therapy technique. I drew an outline of my body, took some time to breath and meditate on the sensations I was experiencing (which I could do during a surge), then paint the sensations over the outline with watercolor paints. If I have any desire to sit upright, I think this would be lovely during early labor and leave me with a nice memento.
  • Bake and decorate “welcome” cupcakes for the baby. Throughout pregnancy, I’ve made cakes and cupcakes for several big events (including the baby shower), and so it feels like a rite of celebration for me. I’m not convinced that I’ll actually have the energy to be on my feet baking (maybe Richard can help me out with that part), but I know decorating cupcakes with phrases like, “welcome” and “we love you” would help shift my perspective from pregnancy to motherhood. If I actually finish them, they would be a great treat to bring to the nurses’ station at the hospital too.
  • Yummy exercises. I can see myself stretching my shoulders, rolling out my thighs and back on my foam roller, and easing jaw and neck tension with some pinky balls. This will feel good in the moment and get me limber and loose for labor.
  • Have Richard read some pre-selected passages to me. Even though I’m not supposed to use the word “pain” with regard to my surges, I would love for Richard to read me a couple anecdotes about pain that I use when teaching yoga and meditation to patients with incurable chronic pain (some of whom feel the intensity of labor on a daily basis). I love the mantra, “Pain, the door of my heart is open to you,” as a reminder to soften to sensation rather than harden to it. However for the sake of positive language, I may adapt it to, “Intensity, the door of my heart is open to you.”
  • Sing. Not sure if I should bother making a sing-along playlist now, or if whatever I choose in advance will just annoy me because I’ll be in such a different state.

Eventually I’ll end up the hospital, and this week I finally sat down with a Birth Preferences template my doulas provided, and modified it match my wishes. Since it includes so much from their template, I won’t post the full plan here, but here are some of the things that are important to me:

  • If everything is going well, I want to be internally-focused and following my intuition without interruption and intervention. To support this, on my birth preferences I requested keeping hospital staff entering to a minimum, having them direct communication to Richard or my doulas if possible, using electronic fetal monitoring only as much as is necessary, and reserving cervical exams for when they inform medical decisions (rather than getting routine hourly exams just to see how dilated I am).
  • I am well-educated about my options, and I’ve chosen my preferences based on what I think will yield the best outcomes for both the baby and me. Sticking to my preferences may not be easy, and I want my birth team to be supportive. One of my preferences is that my providers not offer me pain medication. If I want something, I’ll ask for it.
  • Unless medically necessary (e.g. I get an epidural and can’t feel anything), I don’t want to be coached to push. Although coached pushing is typical in hospitals, there is evidence that it can cause the baby to come out violently (causing tears and other problems in the mother) rather than smoothly. Also, the uterus can push the baby a big chunk of the way out on its own once the cervix is fully dilated, so starting active pushing as soon as the woman is fully dilated can be needlessly fatiguing. (There’s a nice article about all this on BabyCenter if you want to know more). I trust that when it’s time to push my body will let me know. Update: A doula friend informed me that some women never get the urge to push. If I have a long, exhausting labor, I’ll keep an open mind around coached pushing.
  • Saint Luke’s does delayed cord clamping by default (there’s evidence that this helps establish the baby’s iron stores), but there are different ideas about what “delayed” means. On my birth preferences I specifically ask for five minutes to ensure the cord has time to finish pulsating.
  • I want the baby to experience the world as a safe, secure place she can trust, so I’ve requested that all newborn procedures be delayed until an hour and a half after birth. Hopefully we’ll get some quality skin-on-skin time and try out breastfeeding before the baby needs to be poked, prodded, and weighed.

I’ve had a few people tell me birth preferences aren’t worth writing down because you can’t predict what’s going to happen during labor. For me, I don’t see the harm. Worst case scenario: my labor is rife with medical emergency after medical emergency and no part of my ideal birth is achieved. Many of the points on my birth preferences are qualified with the equivalent “unless doing otherwise is medically necessary,” so even this would not really violate my birth preferences. Average case scenario: Some of my birth preferences can’t be met, or I change my mind about some of my birth preferences in the moment. My birth preferences are not a covenant with God. Nobody is going to tell me I can’t do something because it violates a list I wrote ahead of time. Best case scenario: My baby and I have an amazing, wonderful birth experience with care above and beyond what the hospital would normally offer (or more tailored to my personal ideal, anyway). I’m not willing to give up the possibility for the best case scenario for fear of feeling disappointment in the other scenarios.

All in all, I’m feeling confident and at ease about going into labor, with a hint of something that could be either nervousness or excitement. You can come whenever you’re ready, little one!

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.

34 Weeks Pregnant: Commitments to my Daughter

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February 9– February 15: 34 Weeks 0 Days – 34 Weeks 6 Days.

I nearly titled this post, “Commitments to my Future Daughter,” but “future” doesn’t seem to apply any more. She has grown big and strong, has visible and frequent movements, and even responds to Richard’s voice. On Monday, I read BabyCenter’s 34 Week Pregnant blurb, which included the following:

…you’ll be happy to know that babies born between 34 and 37 weeks who have no other health problems generally do fine. They may need a short stay in the neonatal nursery and may have a few short-term health issues, but in the long run, they usually do as well as full-term babies.

The message I got: I could have a perfectly healthy baby tomorrow. Woah. I cried at least six times that day. It didn’t feel like “I’m not going to be able to do this” crying or “I don’t have enough support” crying. It felt like coming into acceptance crying.

34 weeks pregnant

Bump update: I finally grew into my “I ate a seed” shirt. Everything takes more energy now. On Sunday, I went for a swim, then took Foxy to the beach, then had to have a three-hour nap.

Yogic Musings

When I did my first yoga teacher training, the instructor was against having kids. Her opinion was that our evolutionary instinct to love our kids above all others and protect them at any cost destroys our spiritual practice. Instead of seeing all beings as equal, as the same as ourselves, as one, having a child pushes us to create division, strongly differentiate between yours and mine, and to even start wars. However, at the same time, this teacher had a beautiful view on how mindful romantic relationships can actually accentuate the spiritual practice. I like to think that having children can deepen the spiritual practice in a similar way.

Before Richard and I started trying to get pregnant, I did a stream-of-consciousness journaling exercise from The Four Desires by Rod Stryker. Through this, I unearthed what parenthood meant to me and what I hoped to get out of it. Here are my thoughts (as a mother-to-be with no real experience): I believe that children crack us open, unleashing overwhelming feelings of love, connection, and protectiveness that may have been inaccessible otherwise. I believe that children awaken a power and courage within us to become the people we want our little ones to have as role models.

If we can look past the haze of fear, defensiveness, and possessiveness, I believe that our children can be our windows into the universe; we begin to see our children in other people, inciting our deep seated love, compassion, and acceptance for our children to seep out beyond the confines of our families and embrace others. Through meditation we recognize that if we truly love our children unconditionally (right down to the point that we’ve peeled away all the transitory labels and only that which we all have in common is left), we must love all beings unconditionally.

This does not mean that we don’t give our children special treatment. Our children are our little pieces of the universe to tend to, and we have a duty and responsibility (not to mention an unshakable desire) to bathe them in care, security, attention, and affection. However, when we cultivate unconditional love for all beings, we bear in mind that although we care deeply for ours and our own, they do not inherently have any more worth than others. With this insight, we raise our children to be moral, responsible, generous, socially conscious, and ecological. We hold them accountable for hurtfulness, dishonesty, and apathy, and don’t completely shelter them from feeling the consequences of their actions.

I believe that as our children age, we recognize that through raising them, we have grown just as much ourselves. As our children become more independent and require less care, attention, and protection (or start to outright shirk it), we may take the energy we have radiated toward our children and the deep-seated love they have inspired us to cultivate, and redirect them to the rest of humanity. Parenthood ignites within us a potential, fierceness, and power that we can then harness to fulfill our life’s purpose. I don’t consider raising children to be my dharma (life’s purpose)—I consider it to be part of my moksha, my spiritual development, my pathway to freedom from the internal barriers, limitations, and misconceptions that may hold me back from my dharma.

Addendum: Having children obviously isn’t the only way to find this type of spiritual development. I totally support people who choose not to have children. Also, children are my moksha, but someone else’s children may be their dharma (purpose), artha (means to achieve life’s purpose), or kama (pleasure), which is amazing. For me, it helps to be clear on how my children fit into my life when thinking about things like my career.

Commitments To My Daughter

As the birth of the baby approaches—maybe tomorrow, maybe seven weeks from now—it has become strikingly apparent that there’s a piece missing from the musings above: they are all about what I hope to get out of parenting, but speak nothing to how I aspire to serve my daughter. When people get married, they recite commitments to treat each other with honor, respect, and love. If this ritual is important in a wedding between two consenting adults, I feel it’s a paramount part of birthing a helpless, vulnerable, unconsenting being into a lifelong relationship with her parents. When Richard and I wrote our wedding commitments, we called them “affirmations” rather than “vows,” and I use the same language here. This means that some of these commitments are loftier than they’d be if I had to pinky swear that I’d get it right on my first try, but they engender who I aspire to grow into as a mother.

To My Dear Daughter,

These are my affirmations to you:

I see you, hear you, and feel you for who you truly are so I can communicate love and support in a meaningful way. (This line is from Daddy and my wedding affirmations, so I guess it’s one of our family values now). In turn, I am authentic with you so you can genuinely know me.

I protect you when you are defenseless. As you grow and develop independence, I teach you courage, assertiveness, diplomacy, compassion and self-confidence to set you up to fight your own battles. When that time of independence comes, I support you with messages of trust and empowerment, and avoid interference.

I love you even when you hurt me, hate me, or make choices I don’t agree with. However, loving you doesn’t mean I enable destructive behavior. I have the insight and courage to discern between when you need support and compassion, and when the most powerful thing I can do is to step back.

I discipline you intentionally and consciously, not out of anger, resentment, or anxiety.

I care for my own physical, emotional, and mental health so I show can show up energetic, present, and joyful for you.

I instill in you acceptance, honor, and respect for your body, and stand against messages of shame. I hope that developing a positive body image will inspire healthy choices, especially when it comes to choosing partners when you’re older. I [do my best] to give you space to experiment, to fall head-over-heels in love, and even to experience profound heartbreak. I can’t make any promises about what Daddy will make space for.

I will probably dress you in frilly dresses and oversized floral headbands for as long as you’ll let me, but beyond this I treat you with gender-neutral respect, confidence, and expectations. Just as I don’t deny you anything simply because you’re a girl, I don’t give you special privileges just because you’re a girl. I [try to] keep Daddy from spoiling you, but I suspect he wont be able to help it—you are his dream-come-true.

I trust Daddy to take care of you in every way so that you two can have a strong, healthy bond. I make space for him to share his passions and interests with you.

I give you enough structure for you to develop security and trust, and enough freedom to explore, express your creativity, and make your own mistakes. I allow this balance to shift as you grow and develop.

Although I am responsible for you and care deeply for you, I hold onto no disillusion that I possess you, control you, or am entitled to anything from you. I cherish anything you offer me—whether it’s physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual—as a gift. I set you up to achieve my best understanding of a successful life, but ultimately trust your intuition about what success means to you.

As I get to know you, I’m sure these affirmations will evolve, and I’ll probably come up with many, many more. I am so excited to hold you in my arms and to see who you become.

Love,

Mommy

Write in a way that scares you

I had this post completely written well before Monday when I normally publish, but what I wrote definitely falls into the category of writing described above. It took me a few days to muster up the courage to make the final edits and share with the world.

33 Weeks Pregnant: Dessert Decoration, Dog Deodorizing, and Dutailier

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February 2 – February 8: 33 Weeks 0 Days – 33 Weeks 6 Days.

Dessert Decoration

Okay, I admit it: I secretly want to get an over-the-top professional maternity photoshoot wearing a lace maternity gown and a floral crown. I didn’t even know what a maternity sash was before accidentally finding them on Etsy, but now I can’t help wanting one of those too, to… wear around the house, I guess. I can’t really justify the cost of any of these things, but a girl can dream!

This weekend I had my San Francisco baby shower, and I’ll jump at any opportunity to make an elaborate cake. There was one particular maternity sash on Etsy that I kept ogling, so I decided to get it out of my system by making it the inspiration for my cake. Cake-decorating is one of my forms of artistic expression, and it felt great to spend several dedicated hours focused on creating something to honor the baby.

Dutailier

In another feat of not emptying my bank account into the baby industry’s pockets, I bought a beautiful Dutailier reclining glider chair and ottoman on Craigslist instead of getting one new (check that of the to-buy-used list I made a couple weeks ago). I probably didn’t spend any less than I would have on a new one, but I got much better quality for the price. When I tried out the glider chairs on display at Babies R’ Us, at least half of them no longer glided properly or felt like they were about to fall apart. The one I got is built solidly and is still in great condition. I listened to my daily birth prep hypnosis track by Rachel Yellin reclined in the nursery today, and it was lovely.

Dog Deodorizing

The big event of the week was that our dog, Foxy, got sprayed in the face by a skunk. Richard heard her yelp and immediately opened the door and called her in. She showed up at the door barely able to open her eyes, frothing at the mouth, and coughing. We were so focused on rescuing our furbaby that we didn’t put enough thought into containing the skunk odor. By the time we got her eyes rinsed with saline and her coat cleaned with a hydrogen peroxide concoction, she had dripped skunk oil through the house, shaken off in the bathroom before she was deodorized, and contaminated Richard and me so we were spreading stink around the house too. The next few days were spent deep-cleaning the house. I looked online hoping that bleach (a recommended deskunkifier) was unsafe during pregnancy so I’d get out of scrubbing the bathroom from floor to ceiling, but all I found was an article that began: “Unfortunately ladies, most products are safe to use for cleaning during pregnancy. Yes, even bleach.”

Foxy listening for the baby

Foxy likes to stand out in the backyard to listen and feel for gophers underground. Before she got banned from the couch after the skunk incident, she had taken to resting her head on my belly. I like to think she knows there’s a little critter in there and she’s listening and feeling for it.

An article called, “The One Thing No One Tells You Before You Have Kids: Don’t Get a Dog,” was circulating Facebook recently. I’m hoping we have Foxy trained well enough that most of the issues recounted in the article wont be problems for us. Also, occurrences like the skunk-ocalypse 2015 make me believe more and more that having a dog is amazing preparation for having a kid. Here are ten way Foxy has trained Richard and me for children:

  1. Developing roles. Foxy forced Richard and me to work as a team to make sure she was getting all her walks, food, and other care. When we lived in the city and she needed an escort for every outdoor excursion, I, the early bird did all the morning walks, and Richard, the night owl, did all the evening walks. I’m hoping that once we introduce bottles we can develop a similar schedule with the baby.
  2. Choosing a “parenting style.” Richard tends slightly more to the “dogs should be allowed to act like dogs” side and I’m a little more in the “training a dog well gives it more freedom in the long run” camp. We a agree on most things, but we have oodles of practice reconciling the things we disagree on (and sometimes reconciling means accepting that we’re each going to do things differently). I think Richard and my philosophies on parenting will be flipped from how we feel about the dog. I’m more of the “let kids be who they are” philosophy and Richard believes in “give the kids enough structure to set them up for success.” Obviously somewhere in between is ideal, and I know from our experience with the dog that we’ll (eventually) reconcile our differences in opinion.
  3. Advocating. Foxy is allergic to poultry, of all things, which means I have to advocate for her when people try to feed her chicken and turkey. And I get a lot of backlash for it! Many people seem to think I’m an overly concerned health-nut yuppie, or that that there’s no way a dog could be allergic to meat (I don’t understand it either, but that doesn’t change reality), or that because she likes chicken it proves she’s not allergic to it. They’re not the ones who have to clean up the vomit and diarrhea for three days afterward. If my child has food allergies (or another condition that makes her sensitive to her environment), I’ll have no problem being as much of a mama bear as I need to be to make sure she doesn’t get exposed.
  4. Not freaking out about health stuff. We didn’t know Foxy had a poultry allergy at first, and she had some scary symptoms: bloody diarrhea, vomiting, not eating for three days, hives. After spending enough money on vet visits, we learned to discern between what we could watch and wait on, and what actually needed medical attention. I hope that I can maintain the same level-headedness when the baby has her first rash or first fever (or at least learn to do so by the fourth or fifth rash or fever).
  5. Dealing with poop. Before I had a dog, one of my biggest concerns about having a baby was that I wouldn’t be able to deal with the icky diapers. I’ve dealt with so much and so many different consistencies of dog poop now that I know I will have no problem with the diapers.
  6. Being okay with not being able to have nice things. I posted months ago about redoing my patio to create a succulent and beach pebble oasis. I was borderline neurotic about the stones being exactly the right color. My kitchen opens onto the patio, so I’ve started a little herb garden out there too. One of Foxy’s preferred places to poop? On my black Mexican beach pebbles! And, the other day I caught her eating my chives and licking my cilantro—remind me to wash those thoroughly before cooking with them. Honestly though, I have a feeling the baby/toddler/child/teenager is going to do much more damage than Foxy has ever done, but Foxy has at least begun to prepare me. Yet another reason to buy used instead of new where possible.
  7. Loss of freedom. Especially now that I live in the suburbs and work in the city, it takes a lot of orchestrating to make sure Foxy doesn’t get left at home for too long (and I’m definitely not installing a doggie door with the skunks around here). Scheduling around the dog has made it clearer which jobs will be sustainable when I have a baby—the job that’s a 45-minute commute either way for one hour of work isn’t going to be worth the cost of childcare.
  8. Learning to trust babysitters. Okay, this is a lie. I don’t trust dogsitters. I do have two sets of friends I can leave Foxy with and totally relax, but I’ve never ever left her at a doggie daycare or in a kennel. However, I recognize that this is something that I need to get over, especially if I ever want to work again after having kids.
  9. Maintaining our relationship. It’s easy for a dog to take over a couple’s life. For a while, all Richard and I were talking about was Foxy, Foxy, Foxy. Eventually, we instated a “no dog talk” rule that either of us could enact if we were sick of rating poop and discussing the merits of various training techniques. It was always Richard calling the rule on me, which was annoying, but it helped us find our way back to real conversations and connection. I’ve heard from many friends that a baby can completely consume your conversations as well, and I’m hoping that our experience with the dog will help us carve out some time for adult discussion (although, during the first few weeks when we’re both at home exclusively looking after the baby day and night, we may need to get some conversation starter cards…)
  10. Caring about a being so much that you do stupid, crazy things to protect it. Like letting the whole house get contaminated with skunk smell to make the dog more comfortable, or paying a premium to take her to a holistic vet (this sounds kooky, but it was actually totally worth it), or prying an aggressive dog’s maws off your furbaby with your bare hands (this was Richard, and it took several stitches to recover). I know with the baby it’s going to be that feeling of love and protectiveness on steroids! I can’t wait to experience it.
33 Weeks Pregnant

At 33 Weeks Pregnant, even my maternity clothes are getting tight!

31 Weeks Pregnant: Healing an Eroded Body Image

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January 19 – January 25: 31 Weeks 0 Days – 31 Weeks 6 Days.

It’s funny that how our bodies feel can so profoundly affect our mental state. Last week I got some good chiropractic adjustments and was feeling like a pregnancy goddess. This week, I had a not-so-great adjustment (from a different chiropractor) and everything about my pregnancy seemed less glorious.

Last week I was gazing into the mirror admiring the best complexion I’ve had since before I hit puberty (with hormones drop-offs, no more cyclical acne!). This week, I was standing on a stool in my panties in front of the bathroom mirror to get a good look at my varicose veins so I could spend some quality time obsessing over them (I’ve gone weeks without thinking twice about them). Last week I celebrated the achievement of learning to ask for help at the grocery store. This week I felt helpless and frustrated—like I couldn’t do anything on my own. I had the energy to buy potted herbs, soil, and a planter, but I didn’t have the energy to actually do anything with them. On top of all that, the furnace was out of commission for three days, leaving Richard and me shivering.

It’s not that there weren’t great, fun, amazing things happening this week: Richard and I have been consciously spending more time talking and interacting instead of checking out and watching TV; I found out I could cook a whole chicken in just 30 minutes in my pressure cooker (then use the slow cooker function overnight to make broth); and, I won a gangster-themed board game at a friend’s birthday party, probably partly because other players had an unconscious aversion to pointing a foam gun at a pregnant lady. I was just latching onto the negative stuff because I was achy and cold: my shoulder and upper back were tense, the baby was pushing up against and kicking my stomach, and I was starting to feel like a big fat sumo wrestler.

In the middle of my second trimester, a recently-pregnant acquaintance told me, “You look great! I just wanted to make sure I told you that, because I know I felt like a fat cow during pregnancy.” I tend to have a positive body-image and at that time I couldn’t fathom thinking of myself as a “fat cow.” Now that my belly is twice the size it was then and many of my movements are punctuated with groans and grunts, I’m beginning to understand where she was coming from. Between my change in appearance and physical limitations, it’s harder to maintain a positive body image!

Bump Progress

Bump progress report: 12 Weeks to 30 Weeks. My pregnancy fashion tip: Tight pants and a top that’s fitted above and below the bump are the cutest. The looser the pants the bigger I feel.

31 Weeks Pregnant

This week: 31 weeks pregnant, wearing mom shoes. (To continue the point above: imagine how much cuter this would be if I was wearing tights).

Here’s what I’m doing to maintain a positive perception of my body:

1. I allow myself to feel my feelings. Sometimes I get down about not being able to be as physical as I used to or not looking the way I want to, and that’s okay. There’s no good or bad or right or wrong with emotions; they are what they are. Just because someone else has it harder than me or millions of women have been through this before doesn’t mean I am not allowed to feel a certain way. I’m entitled to my experience. Instead of trying to bottle up these feelings, allowing them to fester in my subconscious for weeks or months, I acknowledge them, allowing me to process them, talk them out if needed, and ultimately move through them. The moving through part is important—I try to avoid the addictive behavior of wallowing in negativity.

2. I shift focus to what I can do, rather than dwelling on what I can’t. There are holes in my day where my old activities used to be, and it’s been helpful to fill those voids with new activities, rather than sitting around feeling bored and incapable. I can do prenatal Pilates, I can swim, I can paint, I can play piano, I can write, I can plant my herb garden (just maybe not all in one day). And, the ultimate ability: I can build a fully functioning human being using nothing but some DNA from my husband, food, and my internal organs. That’s kind of amazing. Outside my body, this would probably take a team of scientists, millions of dollars in grants, and years of concerted lobbying effort to get the project past an ethics board. Here I am doing it with only nine months of mild to moderate discomfort. Part of me is eagerly looking forward to childbirth as the ultimate expression of this all the work I’ve been doing over the last nine months.

3. I talk to real women about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting. Although I have a science degree, reading statistics about how the average pregnancy “should” go is only marginally helpful. Nobody has the average pregnancy. When I was nauseated through my first trimester I talked to many women who had not been nauseous at all (validating my feelings that I had it rough), and I also talked to several women who were hospitalized throughout pregnancy because their unrelenting nausea was so bad they couldn’t gain weight (giving me the perspective to feel gratitude that I didn’t have it that rough). Doing prenatal Pilates and doing my prenatal appointments in a group setting has given me the opportunity to see real women at various stages of pregnancy, and see how different it shows up from body-to-body. My take-away: the media sets unrealistic standards even for pregnant women’s bodies.

4. I reframe “me” into “we.” I fall solidly within the millenial generation, which is illustrious for narcissism and self-centeredness. Although I consider myself compassionate and empathetic, I do sometimes catch myself falling into these millenial stereotypes. During the holidays, I visited a doctor I’d never seen before to make sure I didn’t have an ear infection (it was fine, probably just adjusting to my abnormally firm body pillow). At the beginning of my appointment she asked, “How’s your pregnancy going?”
My response: “It’s been okay. I mean I’ve had some aches and pains, difficulty sleeping, and my digestive system feels squished, but I guess that’s all pretty normal.”
She looked at me for a couple seconds, and then asked, “…And how’s the baby?”
“Oh!” I replied, a little embarrassed that I hadn’t even thought to talk about the baby, “She’s great! Everything is on track. Her heart beat is strong every time they measure it and she’s growing at a good rate. She’s moving around a lot now, too.”

Looking back, my energy talking about myself during pregnancy was drab and grey, but when I talked about the baby I was vibrant and animated. My baby is already a huge source of joy, love, and pride to draw from. This week, when my husband asked me how I was doing I processed my challenges and insecurities with him (as per my first point); however, when acquaintances and strangers asked about how my pregnancy was going I told them the baby was doing amazing and kicking all the time! It was uplifting to remind myself of the big picture that includes more than just me.

Shifting awareness from “me” to “we” is of course also important prep for being a mother, and I do feel my mentality shifting in that direction. I cried the first time I watched this video about what’s really important in motherhood, and I cried even harder when I watched it with my husband a second time (it’s not even that emotional, and at the end of the day it’s a formula ad).

The pregnancy hormones may be a contributing factor too. I was crying during this video about the secret meaning of “Closing Time” by Semisonic well before he even started singing:

In any case, I take the tears, emotional turbulence, self-judgment, and even physical discomfort to be telltale signs that I’m going through an amazing, radical transformation. Every day I step closer to fully embracing this wonderful change.