I actually don't know who is luckier, the City of San Diego, for having precious analytical moi as a juror, or me, for getting a government-imposed break from work.
But yes folks, I am on jury duty. The lawyers are expected to wrap up their case tomorrow and then it's whatever time we need for deliberation. It's the kind of case where I really wish I was Sherlock Holmes or Dr. House, but I can't talk about it so...argh. Not talking is really not my strong point. But it's illegal. So I won't.
I actually have the best seat in the house for the trial, front and center, so I'm happy there. The room is cold according to everyone else, which explains why I'm so comfortable. We are not allowed to eat in court but we are allowed to drink bottled beverages, so I am staying well-hydrated. The bailiff was kind enough to throw away my lunch bag when I couldn't find a trash can nearby (that, and maybe my hot pink face). I won't abuse him that way tomorrow, but he's quite kind even if he seemed gruff the first day. I'm guessing it was helped by my innate politeness of saying good morning and afternoon and thanking him when he holds the door when we enter and leave.
I am astonishingly pink, brilliantly so. It's a combination of the heat and the walking at a determined pace to run around to the bathroom, the water fountain, and the vending machine on fifteen minute breaks. The women offer me first crack at the toilets when there's a line (which I decline gracefully). People keep asking me, "You're hot, right?" My pregnancy glow is bordering on radiation burn. I look like I've run a marathon just from walking down the hallway. But people are continuing to be quite kind to me; I have been hearing about everyone's children and their births and so forth. It's interesting so far, not annoying.
The kidlet is doing fine, relatively quiet today, but I could also be preoccupied with all the interesting things. Now the baby will have served jury duty! (If the tater tot becomes a lawyer, the jokes will never end.) There were baby hiccups during some of the testimony and I wondered if other people could see my belly popping up and down. I am uncomfortable with all the walking I had to do to get the cheapest parking possible (Horton Plaza with matinee movie tickets cost $15 for the day with a midday re-park, as opposed to the $28 I paid yesterday to park all day), but now I am chafed in that fat thigh + hot weather + walking way. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you don't need to know, you skinny-thighed sweat-free nymph.
I'm going to go get some ice packs and sit with my hot swollen feet up. The trial could wrap up tomorrow but could go until Monday with deliberations. I'll keep you posted.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Jury Duty: To Be Continued
People can be very kind to you when you're obviously pregnant.
I found a comfortable seat in the jury lounge (SD has the 3rd largest jury court system in the country behind LA and Chicago, which leads me to believe NYC has theirs split by borough) where I could put my feet up and read. I read for many hours, knocked off a Wodehouse, part of The Geographer's Library, and part of a first-year child development book. I had lunch at Wendy's and then had a cupcake and ice cold milk in a coffee shop where some Brits asked me about the weather. The milk was better than the cupcake, but the people in the coffee shop were sweet.
A lady sitting across from me took my ticket to get me a trolley/bus voucher when everyone was told to get up and get in line to get vouchers. Her name was Susan and she was quite kind.
I have a timeline somewhere that I'll dig out, but I wasn't picked until the last call of the day. Then they called my name. So off I trot with the masses, lots of people saying, "Well, you certainly have just cause to get out of this." I explain that I'm just at 36 weeks and I'm not taking disability. Since I can work, I can also do my civic duty. Any exertion makes me pink and it's swelteringly hot, so I must look like I'm about to give birth right there in the Hall of Justice.
Women wanted to talk to me about my baby and then about their babies and pregnancies and labors. I met a woman with seven kids who breastfed them all. She said breastfeeding hurts like hell for the first six weeks (take that, lactation consultant!). They told me about their labor pains and their pregnancy quirks. I think seeing me makes them nostalgic for their own pregnancies. It's quite an unusual time. A lot of the women just urged me to figure out childrearing for myself and trust my instincts, which I appreciated.
Anyway, I was not picked for the jury in the first round, but I was added to the second string of jurors after the lawyers dismissed more than half of the first string. I must return tomorrow to answer questions; stay tuned to find out if I'll actually be serving on the jury. If I am, they expect the case to be over Friday or Monday.
Now I must eat ice cream and pet my darling cats. I feel like I haven't seen them in forever, poor guys. And I want to put my swollen feet up.
I found a comfortable seat in the jury lounge (SD has the 3rd largest jury court system in the country behind LA and Chicago, which leads me to believe NYC has theirs split by borough) where I could put my feet up and read. I read for many hours, knocked off a Wodehouse, part of The Geographer's Library, and part of a first-year child development book. I had lunch at Wendy's and then had a cupcake and ice cold milk in a coffee shop where some Brits asked me about the weather. The milk was better than the cupcake, but the people in the coffee shop were sweet.
A lady sitting across from me took my ticket to get me a trolley/bus voucher when everyone was told to get up and get in line to get vouchers. Her name was Susan and she was quite kind.
I have a timeline somewhere that I'll dig out, but I wasn't picked until the last call of the day. Then they called my name. So off I trot with the masses, lots of people saying, "Well, you certainly have just cause to get out of this." I explain that I'm just at 36 weeks and I'm not taking disability. Since I can work, I can also do my civic duty. Any exertion makes me pink and it's swelteringly hot, so I must look like I'm about to give birth right there in the Hall of Justice.
Women wanted to talk to me about my baby and then about their babies and pregnancies and labors. I met a woman with seven kids who breastfed them all. She said breastfeeding hurts like hell for the first six weeks (take that, lactation consultant!). They told me about their labor pains and their pregnancy quirks. I think seeing me makes them nostalgic for their own pregnancies. It's quite an unusual time. A lot of the women just urged me to figure out childrearing for myself and trust my instincts, which I appreciated.
Anyway, I was not picked for the jury in the first round, but I was added to the second string of jurors after the lawyers dismissed more than half of the first string. I must return tomorrow to answer questions; stay tuned to find out if I'll actually be serving on the jury. If I am, they expect the case to be over Friday or Monday.
Now I must eat ice cream and pet my darling cats. I feel like I haven't seen them in forever, poor guys. And I want to put my swollen feet up.
Week 12: The Very Last Birth Class
Two happy surprises in yesterday's birth class: both couples who have had their babies showed up (one gave birth a week ago yesterday, one gave birth Saturday night). I was so pleased to see them. We got to hear all about their births, which were both unmedicated. The couple that gave birth Saturday had tiny baby with them (the other couple's little girl is still in the NICU but doing great and we got to see pics of the cutie). I've got not enough time and too much sense to invade their privacy by trying to repeat their stories here, but if they end up putting theirs online somewhere, I'll post a link.
A lactaction consultant was also in attendance, and boy howdy would she not shut up. After the birth stories, she began peppering the moms with questions about their techniques. It was like being at a lecture you never asked to attend. I appreciate that she was trying to help, especially the couple with the preemie, but most of what she said, the mom said, "Yes, I'm doing that," or "Yes, I'm doing this."
The consultant put in a movie by an Australian consultant about breastfeeding which could have been, oh, a quarter of the length long. It was extremely repetitive. Halfway through the movie, the couple with the baby in NICU had to go visit the kid, and instead of stopping the movie like a sane and rational person to allow us to say goodbye, the instructor kept the film rolling and the consultant kept pointing out the same damn points that had already been made ad nauseum. I so would have rather said goodbye properly to the other couple; I was so glad to hear that they were all doing so well.
Anyway, part way through class, the baby looks like he needs fed. The lactaction consultant pretty much sacrifices the mom to the God of Education by making her the Vanna White of Breastfeeding for the remainder of class. While the consultant was helping them get settled, I think people tried to give them a modicum of privacy. Once the kid was latched on, this woman invited the entire class to come stare at this woman's breasts to observe the latch.
I don't care who the hell you are. Don't invite people to look at breasts that aren't yours. I asked the mom, "Is this okay with you? You don't have to be the class guinea pig just because you're here." She said it was; otherwise, I wouldn't have looked. I'm not sure what I was supposed to get out of looking; I probably didn't get what I was supposed to because I was so ticked off at this woman's assumptions of my classmate's comfort level as a new mom. I mean, we're all nice people and the new mom is capable of saying no, but she's also in an incredibly vulnerable position right now as a new mom and I wanted to respect that.
Anyway, the consultant kind of soured the rest of the class for me. She started talking about how we should be only wearing our pajamas for the first two weeks to send a signal to guests that we are not entertaining. Then she said something like, "There are some people you have to let in, like the grandparents," and this is where (yes, where was my emotional baggage again, ah yes, HERE are my 18 steamer trunks) I said, "Hell no," in my outside voice. The consultant tried to argue with me, but I wasn't having it. Nope. She may be a grandmother, but I am a woman with a backbone.
There is nobody who gets an automatic free pass to the house in the first couple weeks after birth (if you're not on the lease - and the baby and the cats already are, smarty-asses) and there is no tie of kinship nor cute little babydom that negates that. Sorry! I love you folks out there in blogland, but you had better damn well ask if it's okay for you to visit, especially if your visit requires luggage. It may be fine for you to visit if you're staying at the lovely Embassy Suites but not fine here in the tiny apartment of too much stuff.
Grumble grumble. Mistah C said I was not rude. Other people in class were laughing at whatever I said, so at least there's that.
I have to eat breakfast now so I can get to jury duty on time. Wow, jury duty. But that was class in a nutshell. I really hope we can stay in touch with our classmates; they're just cool people.
A lactaction consultant was also in attendance, and boy howdy would she not shut up. After the birth stories, she began peppering the moms with questions about their techniques. It was like being at a lecture you never asked to attend. I appreciate that she was trying to help, especially the couple with the preemie, but most of what she said, the mom said, "Yes, I'm doing that," or "Yes, I'm doing this."
The consultant put in a movie by an Australian consultant about breastfeeding which could have been, oh, a quarter of the length long. It was extremely repetitive. Halfway through the movie, the couple with the baby in NICU had to go visit the kid, and instead of stopping the movie like a sane and rational person to allow us to say goodbye, the instructor kept the film rolling and the consultant kept pointing out the same damn points that had already been made ad nauseum. I so would have rather said goodbye properly to the other couple; I was so glad to hear that they were all doing so well.
Anyway, part way through class, the baby looks like he needs fed. The lactaction consultant pretty much sacrifices the mom to the God of Education by making her the Vanna White of Breastfeeding for the remainder of class. While the consultant was helping them get settled, I think people tried to give them a modicum of privacy. Once the kid was latched on, this woman invited the entire class to come stare at this woman's breasts to observe the latch.
I don't care who the hell you are. Don't invite people to look at breasts that aren't yours. I asked the mom, "Is this okay with you? You don't have to be the class guinea pig just because you're here." She said it was; otherwise, I wouldn't have looked. I'm not sure what I was supposed to get out of looking; I probably didn't get what I was supposed to because I was so ticked off at this woman's assumptions of my classmate's comfort level as a new mom. I mean, we're all nice people and the new mom is capable of saying no, but she's also in an incredibly vulnerable position right now as a new mom and I wanted to respect that.
Anyway, the consultant kind of soured the rest of the class for me. She started talking about how we should be only wearing our pajamas for the first two weeks to send a signal to guests that we are not entertaining. Then she said something like, "There are some people you have to let in, like the grandparents," and this is where (yes, where was my emotional baggage again, ah yes, HERE are my 18 steamer trunks) I said, "Hell no," in my outside voice. The consultant tried to argue with me, but I wasn't having it. Nope. She may be a grandmother, but I am a woman with a backbone.
There is nobody who gets an automatic free pass to the house in the first couple weeks after birth (if you're not on the lease - and the baby and the cats already are, smarty-asses) and there is no tie of kinship nor cute little babydom that negates that. Sorry! I love you folks out there in blogland, but you had better damn well ask if it's okay for you to visit, especially if your visit requires luggage. It may be fine for you to visit if you're staying at the lovely Embassy Suites but not fine here in the tiny apartment of too much stuff.
Grumble grumble. Mistah C said I was not rude. Other people in class were laughing at whatever I said, so at least there's that.
I have to eat breakfast now so I can get to jury duty on time. Wow, jury duty. But that was class in a nutshell. I really hope we can stay in touch with our classmates; they're just cool people.
Prenatal Visit, Week 35-and-a-Half
I am tired right now. Yesterday was a long day and I have to go get ready for the potentially long day today will be.
But yesterday's prenatal visit went fine. I'm just over one week away from being full-term; unfortunately, with jury duty this week and the holiday next week, it's screwed up my usual mid-to-end of week visitation schedule. But the midwives had reviewed the ultrasound and the baby looked fine. Weight, BP, glucose, protein, fetal pulse are all fine.
[Edited to add: Oh, and my strep B test came back negative so I've got no need for IV antibiotics during labor, which is super.]
I spent the rest of the day at a blood drive at Mistah C's place of employment, which was fun but hot in the afternoon. There were also weird power struggles going on between the employees of said bloodmobile; there wasn't the camaraderie between the staff that I've witnessed on other drives. But it was first muggy and then damn hot. I estimate I drank at least 3 liters of water sitting out there.
But yesterday's prenatal visit went fine. I'm just over one week away from being full-term; unfortunately, with jury duty this week and the holiday next week, it's screwed up my usual mid-to-end of week visitation schedule. But the midwives had reviewed the ultrasound and the baby looked fine. Weight, BP, glucose, protein, fetal pulse are all fine.
[Edited to add: Oh, and my strep B test came back negative so I've got no need for IV antibiotics during labor, which is super.]
I spent the rest of the day at a blood drive at Mistah C's place of employment, which was fun but hot in the afternoon. There were also weird power struggles going on between the employees of said bloodmobile; there wasn't the camaraderie between the staff that I've witnessed on other drives. But it was first muggy and then damn hot. I estimate I drank at least 3 liters of water sitting out there.
But I got to have lunch with my dear husband and our friend, which is great, and I didn't see a single monkey, which is unusual for a work day for me these days.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Boy Howdy, Another Baby!
Another couple from our birth class had their baby. He was born on Saturday night. These people were due next week (or close, July 2), so the baby's full-term. I'm assuming from the excited two-line email I got from the mom that they're fine, but they're actually planning on being in class tonight. This will be the newest kid we've gotten to see.
Class tonight is a mishmosh of things; there will be a lactation consultant and possibly a couple baby stories from people in our class. Wow.
This morning I am going to a prenatal appointment, then with Mistah C to volunteer at a blood drive for most of the day, then to class. There is no work for me today and I am thrilled, let me make that THRILLED.
Class tonight is a mishmosh of things; there will be a lactation consultant and possibly a couple baby stories from people in our class. Wow.
This morning I am going to a prenatal appointment, then with Mistah C to volunteer at a blood drive for most of the day, then to class. There is no work for me today and I am thrilled, let me make that THRILLED.
Monday, June 26, 2006
It's Damn Hot
It might be sunny here in San Diego, but without the usual breezes that go through our little valley, it's been hot here recently. Of course, we've never done June in SD and my thermostat is completely messed up. For illustration, I took a shower at 12:30 today (yes, I love the working from home and showering at lunch). I am now bathed in sweat. I have an hour's worth of work left before I can climb into a cold bath.
We tested the baby monitor this weekend by putting it in the upstairs hall bathroom and whispering while the other person waited downstairs with the receiver. The monitor is surprisingly sensitive.
We tested the baby monitor this weekend by putting it in the upstairs hall bathroom and whispering while the other person waited downstairs with the receiver. The monitor is surprisingly sensitive.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Week 35 Ultrasound Results: All is Well
Everything is super. The kid is exactly where it should be with its head down, facing forward. The kid's butt is right under my sternum and so that's what probably where we got the fetal heartbeat. The pictures are not as clear as last time so you'll just get a side profile of the kid to peer at - the kid's too big for a nice clear view right now. Head's to the right and the kid has both hands up by its face but it is not sucking its thumb. The tech was trying to figure out whose profile this kid has, but that's just so not what we care about.We saw the baby's face with eyes opening and closing and mouth moving. It does not look like the kid has a cleft lip, which I was moderately concerned about because I had a high Vitamin A intake in early pregnancy. The tech also checked for amniotic fluid levels, which look great. The ultrasound tech tells us the kid has hair and a big head - the first thing she said was, "Wow, that's a big head!" This is not unexpected, but also it's not the most comforting thought for me right now.
We did not find out what gender the kid was. She told us to look away at the appropriate time, but we honestly couldn't tell half the time what we were looking at. But I'm just so relieved that the kid is exactly lined up right where it should be. We've been really lucky so far.
Grumble grumble work grumble
I talked to my charming midwife yesterday about my work stress. She saw no immediate danger to the baby, but told me that if I felt like I was too stressed out, then I was probably the best judge of whether or not I should be taking time off.
I am just off a work teleconference and I'm really seriously considering taking pregnancy disability. I just don't have the tolerance for fools that I normally do. I don't think it's good for me to be agitatedly pacing around my house yelling at morons on the phone. I'm going to take a little ten-minute head-clearing walk before Mistah C picks me up for our ultrasound this morning.
I am just off a work teleconference and I'm really seriously considering taking pregnancy disability. I just don't have the tolerance for fools that I normally do. I don't think it's good for me to be agitatedly pacing around my house yelling at morons on the phone. I'm going to take a little ten-minute head-clearing walk before Mistah C picks me up for our ultrasound this morning.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Prenatal Visit for Week 35
We're moving into once a week visits now, folks; this is getting serious.
Today I offered up my blood, urine, and swab samples to the Gods of the Term Labs. The important thing they're checking for is Strep B, which means I would be on IV antibiotics during labor, not fun. I really hope I'm not positive for strep B. I've got a 1 in 4 chance of having it.
My protein and glucose were fine; fundal height was 35 cm, exactly on track if not a little big. We felt the baby and the midwife found the head down again. Then she tried to take the fetal pulse and found it right under my sternum, which is not where she thought the baby would be.
So tomorrow I'm going in for an ultrasound so we can be absolutely sure that the kid is head down. Maybe we'll have more ultrasound pics for all you lucky people out there. No, we're still not going to find out what gender the kid is. Get over your cheap selves! There is a clearance sale going on at Hanna freaking Andersson right now, and that is probably the most tempting reason for me to find out what gender the kid is. Even a Hanna sale is not moving me at this time. We've gone this long without knowing, another 5-6 weeks isn't going to make that much of a difference. There has to be some aspect of our technology-driven, TiVo-consuming lives that's sweetly old-fashioned.
I'm trying to decide if I should be worried or not. It sounded like there was just one data point that didn't agree with all the others so we're having it checked; ultrasounds at 35 weeks are pretty common for positioning. The midwife didn't seem worried and I try to take my cues from her. I know the birth center likes to be on the safe side.
This spoils my tenative plans to go to the La Leche League meeting Thursday morning, so I'm a little annoyed. Mistah C is deciding whether or not he can take the time off work to go with me. I think he's feeling like he's taken a lot of time off recently in an hour-here, late-start there increments, but the temptation of seeing the kid again before D-day is probably great (no judgement, sweetie, you do what you want).
I don't know if I've explicitly mentioned this before, but Mistah C has gone to every single prenatal visit except for the initial intake one (which Miss J accompanied me to), so he's been an outstandingly supportive husband/father-to-be (again, no pressure there, honey). The whole pregnancy has only reconfirmed for me that yes, I chose wisely and well.
Today I offered up my blood, urine, and swab samples to the Gods of the Term Labs. The important thing they're checking for is Strep B, which means I would be on IV antibiotics during labor, not fun. I really hope I'm not positive for strep B. I've got a 1 in 4 chance of having it.
My protein and glucose were fine; fundal height was 35 cm, exactly on track if not a little big. We felt the baby and the midwife found the head down again. Then she tried to take the fetal pulse and found it right under my sternum, which is not where she thought the baby would be.
So tomorrow I'm going in for an ultrasound so we can be absolutely sure that the kid is head down. Maybe we'll have more ultrasound pics for all you lucky people out there. No, we're still not going to find out what gender the kid is. Get over your cheap selves! There is a clearance sale going on at Hanna freaking Andersson right now, and that is probably the most tempting reason for me to find out what gender the kid is. Even a Hanna sale is not moving me at this time. We've gone this long without knowing, another 5-6 weeks isn't going to make that much of a difference. There has to be some aspect of our technology-driven, TiVo-consuming lives that's sweetly old-fashioned.
I'm trying to decide if I should be worried or not. It sounded like there was just one data point that didn't agree with all the others so we're having it checked; ultrasounds at 35 weeks are pretty common for positioning. The midwife didn't seem worried and I try to take my cues from her. I know the birth center likes to be on the safe side.
This spoils my tenative plans to go to the La Leche League meeting Thursday morning, so I'm a little annoyed. Mistah C is deciding whether or not he can take the time off work to go with me. I think he's feeling like he's taken a lot of time off recently in an hour-here, late-start there increments, but the temptation of seeing the kid again before D-day is probably great (no judgement, sweetie, you do what you want).
I don't know if I've explicitly mentioned this before, but Mistah C has gone to every single prenatal visit except for the initial intake one (which Miss J accompanied me to), so he's been an outstandingly supportive husband/father-to-be (again, no pressure there, honey). The whole pregnancy has only reconfirmed for me that yes, I chose wisely and well.
Bradley Class 11: And then there were four...
Four couples left in class with babies in utero, that is. Yup, someone in our class gave birth yesterday. Unfortunately, she was the last one due and wasn't due until August. The baby's premature and going to be in the NICU until she reaches 5 pounds and/or the original due date (birth weight 3 lb, 6 oz). But mom and baby are both apparently doing well. For all you Bradley folks out there, they managed to have a natural, drug-free childbirth.
I think it took our instructor 20 minutes to tell what she knew of their birth story, all in typical tangent-laden Jan-fashion. It was quite the saga: pre-term labor, doctors nagging the mom to get an epidural, getting transferred from one hospital to another mid-labor due to the NICU being overrun at the first hospital, an ambulance driver who massaged her back with tennis balls during the transfer, ending up at a different hospital than intended, a mom who began begging for drugs at transition and her charming husband-coach who helped her understand she didn't need them. This is apparently the first preemie Jan's had in class; it looked like it shocked her.
Note to self: When telling a story about anything medically-worrisome happening to someone, like pre-term labor at 32 weeks or a car accident, start the story by giving the current status of that person. For example, an introductory sentence like, "Tallulah went into labor yesterday and had little Belle this morning prematurely; both of them are doing fine. Belle is in the NICU but was breathing on her own and had an Apgar score of 7 at birth," does so much less for the imagination and so much more for sanity than a sentence like, "I didn't know if I should call all of you and let you know before class, because I thought maybe I should call each of you and tell you each individually and I've been thinking about it all day, but Tallulah went into pre-term labor yesterday." Do not dramatically pause after delivering any kind of statement like that; people think you're about to tell them horrible things.
This is especially useful when speaking to a room full of pregnant women who are worried about someone they've known who has been having problems throughout the pregnancy.
Anyway, it was Class 11, How to Be a Super Coach. We watched two films, one friendly natural waterbirth in a US facility and one with a midwife and a sculptor having their child in their beautifully-tiled outdoor hot tub in a garden in Mexico. The one in Mexico was idyllic. I'm not sure what this had to do with being a super coach.
We did some relaxation techniques, one imaging a place you've been and I honestly can't remember the other technique. I watched the fishtank and tuned out. We re-visited circumcision as a topic for discussion, although I don't know why because nothing new was brought to the conversation by our instructor. The class is rabidly anti-circumcision; there's one couple having a boy (not circumcising him) and there's us having whatever we have (not circumsizing it whatever it is).
She asked if anyone had been to a bris; I had and I was struck by how great the potential for minimizing or disparaging the solemn and sacred traditions of another religion was. So I was extra careful. Honestly, what I remember about it was how fast the baby stopped screaming. The doctor in our class described doing circumcisions in the hospital (with scissors that sound like a cigar cutter) and he also commented that it was surprising how fast the babies stopped screaming. I'm not sure Jan was happy with my trying to explain how significant and joyful the act of circumcision seemed to the family I saw in the context of the Jewish Covenant with God, but I'm also not sure I did it justice. Mistah C said he could tell I was being very deliberate.
We had to discuss how there's no medical reason for a baby to be circumcised in the US today although we did at least talk about Africa and AIDS transmission theories. Our instructor made some comment connecting "AIDS and the morality you teach your children" which tweaked me; I made a neutral comment that AIDS had nothing to do with morality but with making sure your kids had sex ed. Maybe it wasn't that neutral. I wish she'd said more so that we could all be morally outraged together here on the blog, but unfortunately, that's all I've got. The larger conversation was too interesting to get into the gory details of what connection Jan thinks there is between AIDS and morality.
At the end of class, we took pictures of us preggo vimmen and then of the couples (except the ones who gave birth yesterday, sigh) so we can compare the bellies to the babies at our class reunion. Mistah C did not have his super new camera so we'll have to depend on others to send us pics. I'm now the last one due - everyone else is due in early July. It was fun to take the cheezy pictures but a little sad with one of our class's babies in the NICU. Let's all think good thoughts for her.
I think it took our instructor 20 minutes to tell what she knew of their birth story, all in typical tangent-laden Jan-fashion. It was quite the saga: pre-term labor, doctors nagging the mom to get an epidural, getting transferred from one hospital to another mid-labor due to the NICU being overrun at the first hospital, an ambulance driver who massaged her back with tennis balls during the transfer, ending up at a different hospital than intended, a mom who began begging for drugs at transition and her charming husband-coach who helped her understand she didn't need them. This is apparently the first preemie Jan's had in class; it looked like it shocked her.
Note to self: When telling a story about anything medically-worrisome happening to someone, like pre-term labor at 32 weeks or a car accident, start the story by giving the current status of that person. For example, an introductory sentence like, "Tallulah went into labor yesterday and had little Belle this morning prematurely; both of them are doing fine. Belle is in the NICU but was breathing on her own and had an Apgar score of 7 at birth," does so much less for the imagination and so much more for sanity than a sentence like, "I didn't know if I should call all of you and let you know before class, because I thought maybe I should call each of you and tell you each individually and I've been thinking about it all day, but Tallulah went into pre-term labor yesterday." Do not dramatically pause after delivering any kind of statement like that; people think you're about to tell them horrible things.
This is especially useful when speaking to a room full of pregnant women who are worried about someone they've known who has been having problems throughout the pregnancy.
Anyway, it was Class 11, How to Be a Super Coach. We watched two films, one friendly natural waterbirth in a US facility and one with a midwife and a sculptor having their child in their beautifully-tiled outdoor hot tub in a garden in Mexico. The one in Mexico was idyllic. I'm not sure what this had to do with being a super coach.
We did some relaxation techniques, one imaging a place you've been and I honestly can't remember the other technique. I watched the fishtank and tuned out. We re-visited circumcision as a topic for discussion, although I don't know why because nothing new was brought to the conversation by our instructor. The class is rabidly anti-circumcision; there's one couple having a boy (not circumcising him) and there's us having whatever we have (not circumsizing it whatever it is).
She asked if anyone had been to a bris; I had and I was struck by how great the potential for minimizing or disparaging the solemn and sacred traditions of another religion was. So I was extra careful. Honestly, what I remember about it was how fast the baby stopped screaming. The doctor in our class described doing circumcisions in the hospital (with scissors that sound like a cigar cutter) and he also commented that it was surprising how fast the babies stopped screaming. I'm not sure Jan was happy with my trying to explain how significant and joyful the act of circumcision seemed to the family I saw in the context of the Jewish Covenant with God, but I'm also not sure I did it justice. Mistah C said he could tell I was being very deliberate.
We had to discuss how there's no medical reason for a baby to be circumcised in the US today although we did at least talk about Africa and AIDS transmission theories. Our instructor made some comment connecting "AIDS and the morality you teach your children" which tweaked me; I made a neutral comment that AIDS had nothing to do with morality but with making sure your kids had sex ed. Maybe it wasn't that neutral. I wish she'd said more so that we could all be morally outraged together here on the blog, but unfortunately, that's all I've got. The larger conversation was too interesting to get into the gory details of what connection Jan thinks there is between AIDS and morality.
At the end of class, we took pictures of us preggo vimmen and then of the couples (except the ones who gave birth yesterday, sigh) so we can compare the bellies to the babies at our class reunion. Mistah C did not have his super new camera so we'll have to depend on others to send us pics. I'm now the last one due - everyone else is due in early July. It was fun to take the cheezy pictures but a little sad with one of our class's babies in the NICU. Let's all think good thoughts for her.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Mistah C's First Father's Day Gift
No, I did not get him anything. I could not hope to get him something this good.
Sometime last week, our rowdy band of neighbors set up a pitching net on the lawn outside our living room window. It's been used by both adults and children. The pitching was a little distracting mid-week and it was certainly distracting during De-Lovely.
When the little band of children playing with it scampered off and left their softballs next to the net on Saturday, my darling husband said, "I wish someone would take those balls if they're going to leave them out like that."
Sunday morning, we were watching a coyote out our kitchen window. It was a young coyote who was throwing a stick up in the air and catching it like a puppy. I didn't realize coyotes were so goofy until we lived here. All of a sudden, the coyote stumbled across an errant softball.
The coyote abandoned the stick, chewed on the ball for a minute, then trotted off into the underbrush with the ball in its mouth like a dog. We laughed until our sides hurt. Those kids are not getting that ball back now.
Sometime last week, our rowdy band of neighbors set up a pitching net on the lawn outside our living room window. It's been used by both adults and children. The pitching was a little distracting mid-week and it was certainly distracting during De-Lovely.
When the little band of children playing with it scampered off and left their softballs next to the net on Saturday, my darling husband said, "I wish someone would take those balls if they're going to leave them out like that."
Sunday morning, we were watching a coyote out our kitchen window. It was a young coyote who was throwing a stick up in the air and catching it like a puppy. I didn't realize coyotes were so goofy until we lived here. All of a sudden, the coyote stumbled across an errant softball.
The coyote abandoned the stick, chewed on the ball for a minute, then trotted off into the underbrush with the ball in its mouth like a dog. We laughed until our sides hurt. Those kids are not getting that ball back now.
Is that a leg?
Last night we had pizza with hard crusts (which I could eat!) and crusty garlic bread to celebrate the braces coming off. When I eat too much, I swear I can feel my skin actually stretching.
When I eat too much, the kid stretches out (probably because I've just shoved some more stuff next to it and it has no room). Last night, I ran my hand over my belly, turned to Mistah C and said, "Does that feel like a leg to you?" It certainly felt like a leg to me. The kid's spending most of its time sitting on my right and it felt like it was stretching its legs out to the left.
So maybe we're identifying body parts now, when I'm stuffed and the kid tries to make a break for it.
Today's excitement is going to pick up my retainer and going to birth class. We only have two classes left; scary, no?
When I eat too much, the kid stretches out (probably because I've just shoved some more stuff next to it and it has no room). Last night, I ran my hand over my belly, turned to Mistah C and said, "Does that feel like a leg to you?" It certainly felt like a leg to me. The kid's spending most of its time sitting on my right and it felt like it was stretching its legs out to the left.
So maybe we're identifying body parts now, when I'm stuffed and the kid tries to make a break for it.
Today's excitement is going to pick up my retainer and going to birth class. We only have two classes left; scary, no?
Monday, June 19, 2006
Braces are off!
Pictures will go up once the photographer comes home.
I'm happy. My teeth are look so big and there's so much room in my mouth. All the pokey metal bits are gone. The drilling/grinding kept the kid awake throughout the entire thing; it just kick, kick, kicked non-stop. I stopped on the way home to buy Skor bars, pickles, and ice cream and then self-checked just in case I got some funny person checking me out. I am not eating them all together, people. It's hot and I've missed crunchy pickles and toffee the most out of the foods I can eat in preggo state.
We also apparently had a bundle of mail-order love waiting at the door: all sorts of good stuff, including the fabled gazillion-channel baby monitor bought with employee discount. So I want to go through that.
My new boss has decided to schedule meetings for 1PM my time, which has often been within the first 15 minutes of my lunch for the last two weeks. She eats at 11AM and by 2PM her time she thinks I should have eaten. I'll go to today's meeting, but this is not going to work long-term.
I'm happy. My teeth are look so big and there's so much room in my mouth. All the pokey metal bits are gone. The drilling/grinding kept the kid awake throughout the entire thing; it just kick, kick, kicked non-stop. I stopped on the way home to buy Skor bars, pickles, and ice cream and then self-checked just in case I got some funny person checking me out. I am not eating them all together, people. It's hot and I've missed crunchy pickles and toffee the most out of the foods I can eat in preggo state.
We also apparently had a bundle of mail-order love waiting at the door: all sorts of good stuff, including the fabled gazillion-channel baby monitor bought with employee discount. So I want to go through that.
My new boss has decided to schedule meetings for 1PM my time, which has often been within the first 15 minutes of my lunch for the last two weeks. She eats at 11AM and by 2PM her time she thinks I should have eaten. I'll go to today's meeting, but this is not going to work long-term.
Today's the day!
No, not labor. Good grief, I'm just going into 35 weeks this week, people. Nope, today's the day I get my braces off.
Let's see: Saturday we ended up deciding that we were not intended to see Cars, when we encountered a flat tire on the Mistah's car, then a slow-leaking tire on my car (we knew about that one at least), then a huge-ass gasoline truck making it impossible to get to the air refill thing at the nearest gas station. This is the point where I turned to Mistah C and said, "Doesn't it strike you as funny that we're having all this car trouble on our way to see a movie called Cars?" We gave up then.
We watched De-Lovely instead on DVD. It should be called De-pressing. By the end, I was trying desperately to not look like a crazy crying pregnant woman but then Mistah C said to me, "This is miserable!" which made me think it wasn't just my hormones. It's not a happy movie. It's fine and the music's great but it's not a pick-me-up. I'm so glad we had Lupin the Third as a backup.
Sunday we went to Target and finished up the essential baby shopping. Now we've got everything off the "absolutely critical" list, including the things I'm not blogging about because they're all in that category of, "My what is going to do what for how long after birth?" Things we still will get but will not be a massive hindrance if we don't have at birth: the exquisitely-named Hooter Hider, the Peanut Shell, a second base for the car seat, nursing tops. Things we will get post-birth once we know if we truly need them: everything-and-the-kitchen-sink-sized diaper bag, breast pump and milk collection stuff (not until four weeks after birth), additional changing pad covers, additional anythings, and oh yeah, a crib or baby hammock.
But today's the day I'm getting my braces off, so I have to go get ready and fed and floss. I can't believe they're actually coming off.
Let's see: Saturday we ended up deciding that we were not intended to see Cars, when we encountered a flat tire on the Mistah's car, then a slow-leaking tire on my car (we knew about that one at least), then a huge-ass gasoline truck making it impossible to get to the air refill thing at the nearest gas station. This is the point where I turned to Mistah C and said, "Doesn't it strike you as funny that we're having all this car trouble on our way to see a movie called Cars?" We gave up then.
We watched De-Lovely instead on DVD. It should be called De-pressing. By the end, I was trying desperately to not look like a crazy crying pregnant woman but then Mistah C said to me, "This is miserable!" which made me think it wasn't just my hormones. It's not a happy movie. It's fine and the music's great but it's not a pick-me-up. I'm so glad we had Lupin the Third as a backup.
Sunday we went to Target and finished up the essential baby shopping. Now we've got everything off the "absolutely critical" list, including the things I'm not blogging about because they're all in that category of, "My what is going to do what for how long after birth?" Things we still will get but will not be a massive hindrance if we don't have at birth: the exquisitely-named Hooter Hider, the Peanut Shell, a second base for the car seat, nursing tops. Things we will get post-birth once we know if we truly need them: everything-and-the-kitchen-sink-sized diaper bag, breast pump and milk collection stuff (not until four weeks after birth), additional changing pad covers, additional anythings, and oh yeah, a crib or baby hammock.
But today's the day I'm getting my braces off, so I have to go get ready and fed and floss. I can't believe they're actually coming off.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
It's Saturday and nobody's awake but me.
Even the cats are still asleep. Usually one of them will get up with me and keep me company.
Since work has been what we call around here No Fun, there's been no time to blog. Yesterday the high-end playard sheets we ordered finally came in. They seem a great improvement on the percale ones made by the playard manufacturer. We've got to wash all this baby stuff sometime before the baby gets here and figure out where it goes in our sliding block puzzle of a house (it meaning the stuff, not the baby).
The true agenda item for the weekend is figuring what I have had a hard time eating with braces (Skor bars, for example) that I can still eat while being pregnant (crusty bread but not the Brie; not large sushi rolls just yet). Then we have to go buy whatever that is.
I would love to have popcorn, but I've noticed that my cat allergies have been elevated during the pregnancy. Our kitties only scratch us accidentally, usually if they're surprised by a loud noise and take off with their claws out. The few times someone's scratched me, the scratch has immediately swollen into a huge bug bite type angry welt, which doesn't normally happen. I'm guessing this is an exaggerated response to my cat allergy. Since my corn allergy is more vicious than my cat allergy, I should probably skip the popcorn. But I love it so. Then I start thinking about the odds of the kid picking up the corn allergy from corn proteins in breast milk, and oh, it's probably a long time before I have popcorn again. I really don't want this kid to inherit some of the food allergies we've got in the gene pool (corn, wheat, tomato).
When I go into early labor, I'm heading to Whole Foods to stock the fridge with Brie for when we come home. I may even be packing Brie for my high-protein meal post-birth. I'll have to check the protein counts on St. Andre (hmm, 3 g per oz., not good).
Since work has been what we call around here No Fun, there's been no time to blog. Yesterday the high-end playard sheets we ordered finally came in. They seem a great improvement on the percale ones made by the playard manufacturer. We've got to wash all this baby stuff sometime before the baby gets here and figure out where it goes in our sliding block puzzle of a house (it meaning the stuff, not the baby).
The true agenda item for the weekend is figuring what I have had a hard time eating with braces (Skor bars, for example) that I can still eat while being pregnant (crusty bread but not the Brie; not large sushi rolls just yet). Then we have to go buy whatever that is.
I would love to have popcorn, but I've noticed that my cat allergies have been elevated during the pregnancy. Our kitties only scratch us accidentally, usually if they're surprised by a loud noise and take off with their claws out. The few times someone's scratched me, the scratch has immediately swollen into a huge bug bite type angry welt, which doesn't normally happen. I'm guessing this is an exaggerated response to my cat allergy. Since my corn allergy is more vicious than my cat allergy, I should probably skip the popcorn. But I love it so. Then I start thinking about the odds of the kid picking up the corn allergy from corn proteins in breast milk, and oh, it's probably a long time before I have popcorn again. I really don't want this kid to inherit some of the food allergies we've got in the gene pool (corn, wheat, tomato).
When I go into early labor, I'm heading to Whole Foods to stock the fridge with Brie for when we come home. I may even be packing Brie for my high-protein meal post-birth. I'll have to check the protein counts on St. Andre (hmm, 3 g per oz., not good).
Friday, June 16, 2006
Email woes
Replacing the sucky DSL with a cable modem seems to result in all sorts of exciting email issues. Anyone who sent me email in the last day or so, I appreciate it and as soon as I can email you, I will.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Bradley Class 10: the Heisenberg Principle
The act of being observed changed our instructor's normal behavior. I can't tell if Jan was being evaluated or just observed, but there was a person taking notes on the class. Jan was not her normal self during class Tuesday night. She tried hard to adhere to the book, something she normally doesn't do, then made a point of telling us all the things that would happen during class at the beginning of class, which is also strange.
Class was an extended dance mix of Stage 2 labor techniques. First we went over the vocabulary in the book, which we'd covered already. Then relaxation, which I didn't like because it was about imaging warmth while I was already hot in a hot room. Pregnancy makes me hot.
Then we watched a movie on breastfeeding, which had decent step-by-step information on how to get a kid to latch on even if it was not the most professional video I've ever seen (it reminded me a bit of Wayne's World). Then we went back to the workbook, which had a series of questions like, "How can you differentiate among an overwhelming urge to push, some feeling to push, and wishful thinking that you need to push?" These questions seem pretty straightforward to me, but those were for the guys. (Yes, because they really need to know and won't be able to ask. Right.) We also had to go around and report on what exercise we've been doing to get ready for birth, which was a little more pushy than I expect from Jan.
The most striking bit of class was the "dress rehearsal" for labor, which meant we went from station to station assuming different positions and practicing relaxing when Jan rang a bell. Assuming positions sounds better than it was. Positions were things like straddling the back of a chair, squatting, and sitting on a birthing stool. The observer asked Mistah C and I during this if this was our first child, because "you seem so confident." We said it was our first and that it was just "blind...courage?" I was thinking stupidity, but stupidity wasn't the word I wanted. I still don't know what the word would be. I don't know what there is to be afraid of or how we were expressing confidence in a way that someone would feel the need to comment on it. Maybe it was our cue to wax rhapsodic about the classes.
Other rants: I've been reading Morgan Spurlock's Don't Eat This Book, the follow-up to the fabulous Supersize Me, and it's spilled over into making my reading skills even more critical. Example: The Times had an article this week about how some/many researchers are beginning to say that breastfeeding is so much better than formula-feeding that is it a disservice to tell parents that formula's an equivalent alternative to breast milk. There's research saying kids who are breast fed have lower instances of infectious diseases in childhood and lower chances of developing certain cancers and autoimmune diseases (like diabetes and asthma), among other things like being smarter and not obese.
This is making some people defensive. One of the experts quoted in this piece is from Cato Research, basically saying correlation does not equal causality; as such, the link between breastfeeding and lower incidence of disease is in dispute.
How does this relate to Morgan Spurlock? Well, Morgan takes a bunch of "independent research institutes" to task in Don't Eat This Book for being funded by large corporations and making statements that just happen to defend what those large corporations do and decrying scientists as food Nazis. So I Googled Cato Research and found out what kind of work Cato advertises that they do. I don't know about you, but I don't think an organization boasting about getting pharmaceutical products approved with minimized, shortened, and abbreviated testing has my best interests at heart. I'm sure they potentially make more off my formula-feeding than they would off my breast feeding.
Boy, I better be able to breastfeed now.
Class was an extended dance mix of Stage 2 labor techniques. First we went over the vocabulary in the book, which we'd covered already. Then relaxation, which I didn't like because it was about imaging warmth while I was already hot in a hot room. Pregnancy makes me hot.
Then we watched a movie on breastfeeding, which had decent step-by-step information on how to get a kid to latch on even if it was not the most professional video I've ever seen (it reminded me a bit of Wayne's World). Then we went back to the workbook, which had a series of questions like, "How can you differentiate among an overwhelming urge to push, some feeling to push, and wishful thinking that you need to push?" These questions seem pretty straightforward to me, but those were for the guys. (Yes, because they really need to know and won't be able to ask. Right.) We also had to go around and report on what exercise we've been doing to get ready for birth, which was a little more pushy than I expect from Jan.
The most striking bit of class was the "dress rehearsal" for labor, which meant we went from station to station assuming different positions and practicing relaxing when Jan rang a bell. Assuming positions sounds better than it was. Positions were things like straddling the back of a chair, squatting, and sitting on a birthing stool. The observer asked Mistah C and I during this if this was our first child, because "you seem so confident." We said it was our first and that it was just "blind...courage?" I was thinking stupidity, but stupidity wasn't the word I wanted. I still don't know what the word would be. I don't know what there is to be afraid of or how we were expressing confidence in a way that someone would feel the need to comment on it. Maybe it was our cue to wax rhapsodic about the classes.
Other rants: I've been reading Morgan Spurlock's Don't Eat This Book, the follow-up to the fabulous Supersize Me, and it's spilled over into making my reading skills even more critical. Example: The Times had an article this week about how some/many researchers are beginning to say that breastfeeding is so much better than formula-feeding that is it a disservice to tell parents that formula's an equivalent alternative to breast milk. There's research saying kids who are breast fed have lower instances of infectious diseases in childhood and lower chances of developing certain cancers and autoimmune diseases (like diabetes and asthma), among other things like being smarter and not obese.
This is making some people defensive. One of the experts quoted in this piece is from Cato Research, basically saying correlation does not equal causality; as such, the link between breastfeeding and lower incidence of disease is in dispute.
How does this relate to Morgan Spurlock? Well, Morgan takes a bunch of "independent research institutes" to task in Don't Eat This Book for being funded by large corporations and making statements that just happen to defend what those large corporations do and decrying scientists as food Nazis. So I Googled Cato Research and found out what kind of work Cato advertises that they do. I don't know about you, but I don't think an organization boasting about getting pharmaceutical products approved with minimized, shortened, and abbreviated testing has my best interests at heart. I'm sure they potentially make more off my formula-feeding than they would off my breast feeding.
Boy, I better be able to breastfeed now.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
The Great Name Update (for Liz)
It's official; we're going to sell the naming rights to the highest bidder because we really want a child named GoldenCasino.com or Qualcomm or something like that. That's why we have no names open for public debate; it's all about getting the kid's trust fund lined up.
I figured I would start some good rumors since being quiet on the subject of names is only making some people anxious (Liz).
At the end of class last night, people started talking about the names for their babies. Here's what four out of five couples said:
I figured I would start some good rumors since being quiet on the subject of names is only making some people anxious (Liz).
At the end of class last night, people started talking about the names for their babies. Here's what four out of five couples said:
- Couple due July 4, having a girl, Sandy-rae (but one word). I don't know if that's spelled correctly, but that's how it sounds.
- Couple due early August, having a girl, Mi-KAY-ah. I know the spelling is derived from Hebrew but I can't find it in under 30 seconds with Google.
- Couple due in mid-July, having a boy, but keeping the name under wraps.
- Mistah C and me, don't know what we're having, some ideas but no commitment to any particular names yet.
Yes, there are some naming discussions happening. They are only happening in the Star Chamber. It's eyes-only clearance. This is for your safety. I don't want to hear, "Oh, it's too bad you picked Name A; I always preferred Name B," from anyone later. You will then forever be branded as the Person Who Hates Our Child's Name. We don't want to brand people.
We're waiting to see what the kid looks like before we name it. We'd hate to tell all of you it will be Andrew or Andrea and then have the kid turn out to be a Qualcomm or a GoldenCasino.com.
I have heard (Liz) that this is making some people (Liz) nervous that we'll have a three-month-old baby with no name. If we don't have the kid named by time it's two months old, I'll let someone named Liz name the kid. Are you less worried now (Liz)?
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Tickers Gone Wild
Okay, so I spend some of my day reading bulletin boards, and due to the nature of the boards I've been reading recently, a lot of the posters have a signature that includes a ticker that counts down to their due dates.
I'm not fond of the ticker. I think those are encouraging an already inflated self-centered state of existence (quite the statement from someone with a preggo blog, I know). It also gets people too keyed up on the estimated due date. It's not FedEx. 5% of all kids arrive on their due dates. I'll start being annoyed after the first week of August. I certainly would rather the kid finishes cooking and arrives no earlier than 40 weeks.
But today, I saw one level above the pregnancy countdown. It was a "trying to conceive" (TTC) ticker which informed me of when the poster would be ovulating. (It also told me that the poster was going trying to conceive in God's time, which was also too much information.)
Knowing when someone is ovulating + knowing that someone is TTC = knowing way too much about their sex life. Just tell me when you're expecting. If you've got one coming and you're telling me about it in that "We're having a baby!" way instead of the, "I'm pregnant; will you drive me to the abortion clinic?" way, I'm happy for you. That's all. The rest I really don't like thinking about.
I'm not fond of the ticker. I think those are encouraging an already inflated self-centered state of existence (quite the statement from someone with a preggo blog, I know). It also gets people too keyed up on the estimated due date. It's not FedEx. 5% of all kids arrive on their due dates. I'll start being annoyed after the first week of August. I certainly would rather the kid finishes cooking and arrives no earlier than 40 weeks.
But today, I saw one level above the pregnancy countdown. It was a "trying to conceive" (TTC) ticker which informed me of when the poster would be ovulating. (It also told me that the poster was going trying to conceive in God's time, which was also too much information.)
Knowing when someone is ovulating + knowing that someone is TTC = knowing way too much about their sex life. Just tell me when you're expecting. If you've got one coming and you're telling me about it in that "We're having a baby!" way instead of the, "I'm pregnant; will you drive me to the abortion clinic?" way, I'm happy for you. That's all. The rest I really don't like thinking about.
Monday, June 12, 2006
The X-Men is eh, so that's all I'm saying about seeing it.
The cats are psycho today. Our little black kitty is pretty irritated that my lap has disappeared and he keeps walking from the desk, to the keyboard, to the desk, looking for some piece of me to sit upon. The only things available are my hands and wrists and then the keyboard goes ;;;;;;;;;;;;;lllllll00000000 while I try to dislodge him. His brother just convinced him to play run around the house, so I can type freely for now.
We're coming down to the wire of baby-preparedness and so we dutifully went to the Target and the baby superstore. This weekend's prey: baby medicines, diapers, and diaper disposal units.
Before I get to the diaper disposal issue, I would like to address the cloth-diapering issue. I thought about cloth diapering (CD). With the sanitation issues, CD didn't look like it was more environmentally-friendly - all that detergent's going into the water somewhere. With all the things needed for CD (liners, diapers themselves, and diaper covers, regardless of diaper service), it certainly didn't seem cheaper, which surprised me. The research seemed to say that CD kids potty trained faster, but without an environmental or financial advantage, it seemed honestly like too much of a hassle. The easier, the better seems to be the decision-making process right now; we can always change later. I admire the people who are doing it; I just can't be that dedicated right now. There will be enough new things to learn.
So, now that we're filling the landfills with plastic, people seem pretty divided on the topic of diaper disposal. Some people seem to think diaper disposal wonders like the Diaper Genie, the Diaper Dekor, and the Diaper Champ are the best things in the universe and some people think they are absolutely useless and we should just take the trash out. For $30, we figured the Diaper Champ, the highest rated product in our Baby Bargains bible, was worth a shot. It uses regular kitchen bags, so there's no cost on refills. As with everything else, if it doesn't work, we'll figure something else out.
I've gotten recommendations on sizing (S or M, even with humongous breasts) from the nice people at Peanut Shell, but I have to wait to order that until 1-2 weeks before my due date to be able to return/exchange it if it doesn't work. Unfortunately, the closest baby store that carries it is in OC, which is too far for me. The gas will cost more than the shipping.
Oh, and I look huge, say J & T who hadn't seen me for two weeks. Well, to be fair, J said it over and over and T didn't disagree but kept his comments to himself. T is a wise man. I'll have to get Mistah C to take a side view when I'm dressed for the public instead of working at home in my ripped yoga pants.
No baby-related medical appointments this week, but I have a pre-braces-removal cleaning. I would also like to get in touch with the stupid eye doctor to get new glasses before the kid arrives, since I think I'll wear my glasses more often when I'm trying to nap frequently.
The kid is active. Very active. Lots of kicking and wriggling going on.
We're coming down to the wire of baby-preparedness and so we dutifully went to the Target and the baby superstore. This weekend's prey: baby medicines, diapers, and diaper disposal units.
Before I get to the diaper disposal issue, I would like to address the cloth-diapering issue. I thought about cloth diapering (CD). With the sanitation issues, CD didn't look like it was more environmentally-friendly - all that detergent's going into the water somewhere. With all the things needed for CD (liners, diapers themselves, and diaper covers, regardless of diaper service), it certainly didn't seem cheaper, which surprised me. The research seemed to say that CD kids potty trained faster, but without an environmental or financial advantage, it seemed honestly like too much of a hassle. The easier, the better seems to be the decision-making process right now; we can always change later. I admire the people who are doing it; I just can't be that dedicated right now. There will be enough new things to learn.
So, now that we're filling the landfills with plastic, people seem pretty divided on the topic of diaper disposal. Some people seem to think diaper disposal wonders like the Diaper Genie, the Diaper Dekor, and the Diaper Champ are the best things in the universe and some people think they are absolutely useless and we should just take the trash out. For $30, we figured the Diaper Champ, the highest rated product in our Baby Bargains bible, was worth a shot. It uses regular kitchen bags, so there's no cost on refills. As with everything else, if it doesn't work, we'll figure something else out.
I've gotten recommendations on sizing (S or M, even with humongous breasts) from the nice people at Peanut Shell, but I have to wait to order that until 1-2 weeks before my due date to be able to return/exchange it if it doesn't work. Unfortunately, the closest baby store that carries it is in OC, which is too far for me. The gas will cost more than the shipping.
Oh, and I look huge, say J & T who hadn't seen me for two weeks. Well, to be fair, J said it over and over and T didn't disagree but kept his comments to himself. T is a wise man. I'll have to get Mistah C to take a side view when I'm dressed for the public instead of working at home in my ripped yoga pants.
No baby-related medical appointments this week, but I have a pre-braces-removal cleaning. I would also like to get in touch with the stupid eye doctor to get new glasses before the kid arrives, since I think I'll wear my glasses more often when I'm trying to nap frequently.
The kid is active. Very active. Lots of kicking and wriggling going on.
Friday, June 09, 2006
No TB for me!
Hooray! Yes, I know we were all worried there.
My work currently sucks. I miss my old boss. That's all I'm going to say on a blog.
My work currently sucks. I miss my old boss. That's all I'm going to say on a blog.
The kid's getting bigger
The kid spent hours yesterday pressing against my right lung/ribs. I tried drinking juice to get the kid to move, but that only gave me a ten-minute breather. I used to take a walk when the kid was in an uncomfortable place to convince it to move/sleep, but the kid's big enough now that walking is not the massive problem-solver it once was. I'll have to try some pelvic rocks to move the kid.
We don't have anything lined up for the weekend. We've been talking about going to see Cars since it seems like Disney has been massively underhyping it compared to its other Pixar releases and we'd like to support Pixar, but A Prairie Home Companion is also coming out and we haven't seen the latest X-Men flick yet. Maybe we'll try to go to multiple movies.
We also have some baby shopping to do, but we're procrastinating (hey, we've got two weeks until the birth center says we really should have everything in order "just in case").
We've been planning on going to an adult/child/infant CPR class, but since that requires being at the Red Cross at 7AM on a Saturday, we haven't made it there yet.
We're now at 48 hours since my TB test and I have absolutely no signs of swelling at the injection site: not even a little raised bug-bite. I have to look very hard to see where the puncture site is. Googling tells me that this means I don't have TB, but I have to run by the birth center today to have someone medical look at it.
Complete non-sequitur: Does anyone know what a tilapia loin is? I've emailed Alton Brown via Food Network's site, but I'm just curious. I didn't think fish had loins, not a 3-pounder like tilapia, anyway. They looked like filets to Mistah C and me.
We don't have anything lined up for the weekend. We've been talking about going to see Cars since it seems like Disney has been massively underhyping it compared to its other Pixar releases and we'd like to support Pixar, but A Prairie Home Companion is also coming out and we haven't seen the latest X-Men flick yet. Maybe we'll try to go to multiple movies.
We also have some baby shopping to do, but we're procrastinating (hey, we've got two weeks until the birth center says we really should have everything in order "just in case").
We've been planning on going to an adult/child/infant CPR class, but since that requires being at the Red Cross at 7AM on a Saturday, we haven't made it there yet.
We're now at 48 hours since my TB test and I have absolutely no signs of swelling at the injection site: not even a little raised bug-bite. I have to look very hard to see where the puncture site is. Googling tells me that this means I don't have TB, but I have to run by the birth center today to have someone medical look at it.
Complete non-sequitur: Does anyone know what a tilapia loin is? I've emailed Alton Brown via Food Network's site, but I'm just curious. I didn't think fish had loins, not a 3-pounder like tilapia, anyway. They looked like filets to Mistah C and me.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Almost-33 Week Prenatal Visit
Let's all do a happy dance. Stupid Bush; stupid midterms; stupid people who really think gay people getting married affects anyone else's marriage. I can name half a dozen heterosexual marriages I'd rather see made unconstitutional so I can stop being lumped into the same category as them, but that would be a truly juicy blog entry, wouldn't it? Constitutional amendments limiting rights never seem to work well - the last one that took was the two-terms limit for presidents and I can honestly say that there are times when I'm just thrilled that amendment is in place (1987 and the current year come to mind).
Anyway, this post should be about today's prenatal visit. We're almost to 33 weeks and are right on track for that for fundal height, 33 cm. Blood pressure was good, weight good, glucose good, protein good. They gave me a TB test since I hadn't gotten one previously; I have to run by on Friday so they can see if I have TB or not. Pregnant women apparently get a TB screening as a public health thing. There's no live culture in the test so it shouldn't affect the baby.
The birth center was calm for all the activity going on there: a birth last night at 3AM, plus another mother was being transferred to a hospital because her labor had stalled. Everyone was quite calm, but the midwives were tired. The midwife measured my fundal height at 35 cm (which would be quite the leap in growth) and then said, "I've been up all night. Let me find the head first and we'll re-measure."
The midwife located the kid's head and the kid is happily head down right where it should be. Mistah C and I both felt it; the baby has a head. There's still enough room for the kid to bounce around in there, but not enough left for the kid to somersault into a breech position. Breech is not good.
The kid is moving a lot; the midwife felt my uterus and said the kid is still floating. I asked if the strange twinges I have been having are Braxton-Hicks contractions since everyone in birth class seems to have had them and I haven't, but the midwife said, no, it's the kid moving. Apparently Braxton-Hicks contractions will make my uterus feel like a board and I could be having them without noticing.
The next appointment is in two weeks and they will be doing my term labs. I'm not nearly as excited about more testing, but I'll have my braces off by then. Less than two weeks, woo hoo!
Anyway, this post should be about today's prenatal visit. We're almost to 33 weeks and are right on track for that for fundal height, 33 cm. Blood pressure was good, weight good, glucose good, protein good. They gave me a TB test since I hadn't gotten one previously; I have to run by on Friday so they can see if I have TB or not. Pregnant women apparently get a TB screening as a public health thing. There's no live culture in the test so it shouldn't affect the baby.
The birth center was calm for all the activity going on there: a birth last night at 3AM, plus another mother was being transferred to a hospital because her labor had stalled. Everyone was quite calm, but the midwives were tired. The midwife measured my fundal height at 35 cm (which would be quite the leap in growth) and then said, "I've been up all night. Let me find the head first and we'll re-measure."
The midwife located the kid's head and the kid is happily head down right where it should be. Mistah C and I both felt it; the baby has a head. There's still enough room for the kid to bounce around in there, but not enough left for the kid to somersault into a breech position. Breech is not good.
The kid is moving a lot; the midwife felt my uterus and said the kid is still floating. I asked if the strange twinges I have been having are Braxton-Hicks contractions since everyone in birth class seems to have had them and I haven't, but the midwife said, no, it's the kid moving. Apparently Braxton-Hicks contractions will make my uterus feel like a board and I could be having them without noticing.
The next appointment is in two weeks and they will be doing my term labs. I'm not nearly as excited about more testing, but I'll have my braces off by then. Less than two weeks, woo hoo!
Bradley Class 9: but really I don't know what technically
Class last night was a roller coaster, up and then down. Way down. Stick your fingers in your ears down. I'm not kidding.
We started off by finishing the Class 7 vocabulary, which was fine. Actually, since we hadn't had class for two weeks, we started by commenting on how big everyone's bellies are getting. Someone even said to me, "Wow, that baby's really growing." I probably still have belly envy, but I'm at least pregnant-looking now.
Then we watched a movie by Suzanne Arms, the author of Immaculate Deception and now an activist for natural birth. Mistah C probably said it best: "They should show that movie at the first class." It was the most professionally produced film we've seen (after all folks, we are in California; production values matter). It intercut film of a natural birth with talking head pieces from doctors, doulas, midwives, and other birth advocate-types. It also presented (woefully outdated but still scary) statistics on birth in this country. While I'm sure it's considered vitriolic, it struck me as a good basic presentation of the reasons why you might want to reconsider trotting off to the hospital to give birth even though 93% of the other women in this country do it.
Then it was time for the relaxation technique, which is a technique I've actually encountered before as part of my wrist injury biofeedback therapy. You're basically supposed to imagine an object that changes colors through the spectrum of the rainbow (and let tension go, and just concentrate on the colors changing, yadda yadda). Well, it turned into brainstorming. "The first color is red, so, oh, I should have brought the red roses from my garden. What else is red? No, not fire trucks. Strawberries are good. Shiny red apples." There were other conversations going on that got woven into this, like email addresses and other weird stream of consciousness stuff. The instructor pretty much gave up on the technique at green, but I also don't think she understood it.
So the relaxation technique wasn't terribly relaxing but we were reclining in the dark with someone rubbing us. Jan started talking about the vocabulary from Class 8, which is on interventions and unforeseen problems (like C-sections and whatnot). As part of that, she started talking about miscarriages, stillbirths, and babies/young children dying. These terms are not actually in the vocabulary; talking about the categorization of a woman based on first pregnancy versus first child delivered (primapara versus primagravida) made her go into a discussion of miscarriages, the grieving process, and all the rest of it. This discussion was longer than the discussion on the actual vocabulary for Class 8.
I had a "What the hell?" moment. I'm pregnant and hypersensitive right now, so I know that I don't want to hear about death, particularly death of babies (in or out of the womb) or animals. I still can't get through the special "Oprah visits Auschwitz" episode on my TiVo; I really can't watch the blood and guts sections of House. I certainly am not watching any dead baby episodes of anything. I don't read news stories about horrible things happening to families or children and I never ever watch the TV news anyway but I would have given that crap up too, stupid news as consumer product. It's not the innate superstition of "If I hear it, it'll come true," but it's just upsetting to me right now and as such, I'm filtering out what I can. At some point during Jan's monologue, I thought about putting my fingers in my ears; Mistah C says yes, I did cover an ear with one hand.
I don't understand how that discussion was educational. It would have been enough to say, "If you've been through a miscarriage, an abortion, or something else that makes you grieve for that lost child, then that's a valid feeling and you should probably talk to someone about it. I've had a miscarriage and you're welcome to talk to me about it, plus I have books and films to recommend to you on the topic that might help." The whole extended discussion of people she's known or taught who have had kids that died or were stillborn was not necessary. I was put out.
I don't know what next week's class is; I think Class 9 was the extended dance mix of Labor Stage 1 techniques, but I don't think we got there yesterday. I've had a prenatal checkup but that will have to wait until I sort through what I'm doing today for work.
We started off by finishing the Class 7 vocabulary, which was fine. Actually, since we hadn't had class for two weeks, we started by commenting on how big everyone's bellies are getting. Someone even said to me, "Wow, that baby's really growing." I probably still have belly envy, but I'm at least pregnant-looking now.
Then we watched a movie by Suzanne Arms, the author of Immaculate Deception and now an activist for natural birth. Mistah C probably said it best: "They should show that movie at the first class." It was the most professionally produced film we've seen (after all folks, we are in California; production values matter). It intercut film of a natural birth with talking head pieces from doctors, doulas, midwives, and other birth advocate-types. It also presented (woefully outdated but still scary) statistics on birth in this country. While I'm sure it's considered vitriolic, it struck me as a good basic presentation of the reasons why you might want to reconsider trotting off to the hospital to give birth even though 93% of the other women in this country do it.
Then it was time for the relaxation technique, which is a technique I've actually encountered before as part of my wrist injury biofeedback therapy. You're basically supposed to imagine an object that changes colors through the spectrum of the rainbow (and let tension go, and just concentrate on the colors changing, yadda yadda). Well, it turned into brainstorming. "The first color is red, so, oh, I should have brought the red roses from my garden. What else is red? No, not fire trucks. Strawberries are good. Shiny red apples." There were other conversations going on that got woven into this, like email addresses and other weird stream of consciousness stuff. The instructor pretty much gave up on the technique at green, but I also don't think she understood it.
So the relaxation technique wasn't terribly relaxing but we were reclining in the dark with someone rubbing us. Jan started talking about the vocabulary from Class 8, which is on interventions and unforeseen problems (like C-sections and whatnot). As part of that, she started talking about miscarriages, stillbirths, and babies/young children dying. These terms are not actually in the vocabulary; talking about the categorization of a woman based on first pregnancy versus first child delivered (primapara versus primagravida) made her go into a discussion of miscarriages, the grieving process, and all the rest of it. This discussion was longer than the discussion on the actual vocabulary for Class 8.
I had a "What the hell?" moment. I'm pregnant and hypersensitive right now, so I know that I don't want to hear about death, particularly death of babies (in or out of the womb) or animals. I still can't get through the special "Oprah visits Auschwitz" episode on my TiVo; I really can't watch the blood and guts sections of House. I certainly am not watching any dead baby episodes of anything. I don't read news stories about horrible things happening to families or children and I never ever watch the TV news anyway but I would have given that crap up too, stupid news as consumer product. It's not the innate superstition of "If I hear it, it'll come true," but it's just upsetting to me right now and as such, I'm filtering out what I can. At some point during Jan's monologue, I thought about putting my fingers in my ears; Mistah C says yes, I did cover an ear with one hand.
I don't understand how that discussion was educational. It would have been enough to say, "If you've been through a miscarriage, an abortion, or something else that makes you grieve for that lost child, then that's a valid feeling and you should probably talk to someone about it. I've had a miscarriage and you're welcome to talk to me about it, plus I have books and films to recommend to you on the topic that might help." The whole extended discussion of people she's known or taught who have had kids that died or were stillborn was not necessary. I was put out.
I don't know what next week's class is; I think Class 9 was the extended dance mix of Labor Stage 1 techniques, but I don't think we got there yesterday. I've had a prenatal checkup but that will have to wait until I sort through what I'm doing today for work.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Everything's fine, situation normal.
I'm trying to think if there's baby news, but I don't think there is anything grand to about the state of the babe. I have a checkup this Wednesday so there should be more news later this week.
The kidlet is quite a little mover; finally Mistah C has been able to feel some of the major seismic shifts in my innards and it's quite the sensation. Movement is now visible; the kid had hiccups Saturday afternoon and we could see the reverberations. Everyone needs a little John Hurt moment now and again.
I'm pregnant enough that when we went to the cool, hip sushi place for dinner, I had young, hip, cool people stepping out of the way for me like pregnancy was contagious and they didn't want to catch it. I felt like a walking blimp advertising "do you have condoms?" in the meat market. If I'd been dressed as a nun, I would have had the same looks. (Before anyone asks: no, I didn't have sushi; I had gyoza, miso, and truly excellent shrimp tempura. Yum.)
The kidlet is quite a little mover; finally Mistah C has been able to feel some of the major seismic shifts in my innards and it's quite the sensation. Movement is now visible; the kid had hiccups Saturday afternoon and we could see the reverberations. Everyone needs a little John Hurt moment now and again.
I'm pregnant enough that when we went to the cool, hip sushi place for dinner, I had young, hip, cool people stepping out of the way for me like pregnancy was contagious and they didn't want to catch it. I felt like a walking blimp advertising "do you have condoms?" in the meat market. If I'd been dressed as a nun, I would have had the same looks. (Before anyone asks: no, I didn't have sushi; I had gyoza, miso, and truly excellent shrimp tempura. Yum.)
Friday, June 02, 2006
And if the maternity leave hassles weren't enough...
I have been summoned for Jury Duty. I have been summoned once before, but in Colorado, you call a number and they say whether or not you have to come in. I didn't have to serve then. Unlike Colorado, San Diego makes you actually show up in court. My summons date is just one day before I officially roll the 36th week of pregnancy.
In addition to working out the maternity leave issues with HR, I'll be sending them a copy of my jury summons.
In addition to working out the maternity leave issues with HR, I'll be sending them a copy of my jury summons.
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