Bullet points:
Things are afoot - feet are, and a head, and arms.
Last night I ate a very spicy dinner, and for a while thought it might send me over the brink. It did not. The pineapple in the fridge is beckoning (between Josh and I, we can eat a whole one), but I think it might make sense to wait until Tues night to eat it. Just in case it's not a tall old wives' tale, that it is a good labor inducer.
My pelvic floor muscles are suddenly weak, but I'm not leaking pee, so I will not complain.
We interviewed a lovely French woman to be Jonah's afternoon babysitter for a few months. She exclaimed how "mignon" he is - I could not help but agree. He further charmed her with a well-timed "bon-zhoo!"
My normally cautious kid went buck wild at a birthday party at a bouncy castle place today. Something about seeing all his little classmates having the time of their lives made him get over his fear. It made me so happy to watch him.
Off to compose a scrapbook for my mom's 70th birthday party, which was nearly 3 years ago, and it is embarrassing to me how long it has taken to finally get down to this task. Josh is out with Jonah getting some essential baby essentials from our "storage unit" in Queens. Just the mini-crib, bouncy seat, car seat, and swing. That's enough for now, baby, until you show up.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Gestational logorrhea, 36 weeks
Now the size of a Crenshaw melon. To which Josh said, "I LIKE Crenshaw melon." So I says, "You want to eat this baby?" Har har.
I'm huge. Swollen feet just starting up, though if I'm smart and stay off my feet, as I was unable to this weekend, maybe I can avoid the worst of it. But the weight gain is definitely on a par with last time, which means it's going to take at least a year for me to get serious about losing it all... Or maybe things will be different this time. Maybe I'll actually try to exercise.
Starting to freak out that we need a babysitter ASAP to get Jonah to his PT and OT appointments, neither of which are nearby so they would need to take him by bus, which will take forever. Or else use a car service and risk Jonah's life in a car without a car seat.
But one major nesting project - fixing the lighting in the apartment - is now done, after two days of three electricians, lots of dust, and somewhat difficult Jonah management to keep him out of their way. It now feels as though we've moved to a new apartment - the light makes that much of a difference.
Jonah is growing and changing so fast it's hard to believe, let alone accept. Yesterday we had a playdate with a school friend of his (whose mom I was anxious to meet because she's Italian and I wanted to practice my Italian). Unfortunately the kid from Jonah's class was in a pissy mood, not wanting to share toys, and also getting into really vicious, physical fights with his older brother, who then was so out of control he actually started hitting his mother, all in Jonah's view. Jonah was absolutely traumatized by this - he started yelling and crying. We should have left, honestly, but I didn't see how we could. When we got back to the car I sat with him for a second and explained that what we saw was very ugly, and that not all siblings get along as poorly as that. That it can be NICE to have a sibling.
Unfortunately, the residual trauma had him attempting to beat up Josh yesterday, and both of us today, at totally unexpected moments - he'd just start flailing his arms and trying to hit us. I held him very tightly and told him to get under control, and it stopped immediately. It was really scary to see how quickly exposure to bad behavior can lead to emulation of said behavior. No TV until college, young man!
Jonah had a small splinter in his hand tonight, and when I discovered it, and saw that he seemed to be recoiling in pain when we tried to touch it, I knew I had to get it out. He threw an unbelievable tantrum while I assembled my first aid stuff, and then Josh had a hell of a time restraining him, but somehow, I got that splinter out.
He stopped crying almost immediately once he had a fancy band aid, and then in the tiniest, most heartbreaking little voice, said that his teacher tomorrow would read about how brave he was in a "mitzvah note" (notes that we send to school when he's done good things). He wasn't particularly brave, I don't think... but how could I deny him that minor revision? Plus, he eventually did stop crying - which is when I started. It was such a harrowing experience, seeing him anticipate the pain I was going to cause him. He looked at me crying for a moment, face frozen in his all-purpose smile, and then did a most amazing thing - went to get me a tissue, brought it over, and asked if I was OK.
I'm huge. Swollen feet just starting up, though if I'm smart and stay off my feet, as I was unable to this weekend, maybe I can avoid the worst of it. But the weight gain is definitely on a par with last time, which means it's going to take at least a year for me to get serious about losing it all... Or maybe things will be different this time. Maybe I'll actually try to exercise.
Starting to freak out that we need a babysitter ASAP to get Jonah to his PT and OT appointments, neither of which are nearby so they would need to take him by bus, which will take forever. Or else use a car service and risk Jonah's life in a car without a car seat.
But one major nesting project - fixing the lighting in the apartment - is now done, after two days of three electricians, lots of dust, and somewhat difficult Jonah management to keep him out of their way. It now feels as though we've moved to a new apartment - the light makes that much of a difference.
Jonah is growing and changing so fast it's hard to believe, let alone accept. Yesterday we had a playdate with a school friend of his (whose mom I was anxious to meet because she's Italian and I wanted to practice my Italian). Unfortunately the kid from Jonah's class was in a pissy mood, not wanting to share toys, and also getting into really vicious, physical fights with his older brother, who then was so out of control he actually started hitting his mother, all in Jonah's view. Jonah was absolutely traumatized by this - he started yelling and crying. We should have left, honestly, but I didn't see how we could. When we got back to the car I sat with him for a second and explained that what we saw was very ugly, and that not all siblings get along as poorly as that. That it can be NICE to have a sibling.
Unfortunately, the residual trauma had him attempting to beat up Josh yesterday, and both of us today, at totally unexpected moments - he'd just start flailing his arms and trying to hit us. I held him very tightly and told him to get under control, and it stopped immediately. It was really scary to see how quickly exposure to bad behavior can lead to emulation of said behavior. No TV until college, young man!
Jonah had a small splinter in his hand tonight, and when I discovered it, and saw that he seemed to be recoiling in pain when we tried to touch it, I knew I had to get it out. He threw an unbelievable tantrum while I assembled my first aid stuff, and then Josh had a hell of a time restraining him, but somehow, I got that splinter out.
He stopped crying almost immediately once he had a fancy band aid, and then in the tiniest, most heartbreaking little voice, said that his teacher tomorrow would read about how brave he was in a "mitzvah note" (notes that we send to school when he's done good things). He wasn't particularly brave, I don't think... but how could I deny him that minor revision? Plus, he eventually did stop crying - which is when I started. It was such a harrowing experience, seeing him anticipate the pain I was going to cause him. He looked at me crying for a moment, face frozen in his all-purpose smile, and then did a most amazing thing - went to get me a tissue, brought it over, and asked if I was OK.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Gestational logorrhea, 35 weeks
Experimenting with a new way to post: using the kitchen timer that's set for the cookies I'm baking. I'll type half the post, turn the cookies around, then the next half.
Two weeks to full term, and we're dealing with a honeydew in size (and shape, to look at me). Movement is not quite as frequent as I imagine quarters are getting close in there. Do babies in utero ever get muscle cramps from being stuck in a certain position? God knows I've been getting foot cramps, sore butt muscles, backaches. But so far, no swollen feet. I am PRAYING for no swollen feet. Last time my legs from shins down looked like canned hams. I read somewhere that during a second pregnancy you don't retain as much water. Let this be so!
This past Sunday I was a wreck - tired, bitchy, fed up. Then, a three-hour bright spot in the day - a workshop on yoga for labor and delivery. Josh's parents came over to play with Jonah, and we got to spend the first chunk of time ever thinking only about this baby and how it's going to get out. We took the same workshop before Jonah was born, but I'm so glad we did it over as I couldn't have gleaned nearly as much from just reading a book. The poster the teacher had with a diagram of cervical dilation rendered in actual size was pretty impressive. Ten centimeters is the size of a pita, and not a mini-pita. It's about the size of a coffee can, and not a gourmet imported one. It is larger than any other orifice in the body ever could hope to be. It's how the baby will get out.
[Timer rings. Cookies spun around. Part two.]
Jonah is on a heightened state of alert - orange, possibly creeping into red. He's gotten up in the middle of the night a couple of times (though he goes back to bed easily when he realizes it's not morning), he's resisting bedtime, and this morning he freaked out quite a bit because the piano room (off the living room) is suddenly overtaken with the contents of a closet that we are trying to get organized before the weekend. He plays in that room, and all of a sudden it's not available. I know he needs to get used to disruptions like this and even more major ones, but I still feel for him. It's not for nothing that he's been asking to watch this about 12 times a day, and has internalized the story's text and recites it and asks if we're going to take his high chair for the baby. Luckily the chair he uses is one we just bought for him, and it feels good to be able to tell him that it's his chair, now and forever, and it won't ever get painted pink.
Preparing for labor I found and downloaded a couple of mp3s of writers reading pieces that mean a lot to me. I'm wondering, though, if music is going to be more important, and particularly music I can sing along to. Singing during contractions strikes me as a good way to relax my jaw, make sure I don't strain my face muscles, and possibly entertain those in the room...
Two weeks to full term, and we're dealing with a honeydew in size (and shape, to look at me). Movement is not quite as frequent as I imagine quarters are getting close in there. Do babies in utero ever get muscle cramps from being stuck in a certain position? God knows I've been getting foot cramps, sore butt muscles, backaches. But so far, no swollen feet. I am PRAYING for no swollen feet. Last time my legs from shins down looked like canned hams. I read somewhere that during a second pregnancy you don't retain as much water. Let this be so!
This past Sunday I was a wreck - tired, bitchy, fed up. Then, a three-hour bright spot in the day - a workshop on yoga for labor and delivery. Josh's parents came over to play with Jonah, and we got to spend the first chunk of time ever thinking only about this baby and how it's going to get out. We took the same workshop before Jonah was born, but I'm so glad we did it over as I couldn't have gleaned nearly as much from just reading a book. The poster the teacher had with a diagram of cervical dilation rendered in actual size was pretty impressive. Ten centimeters is the size of a pita, and not a mini-pita. It's about the size of a coffee can, and not a gourmet imported one. It is larger than any other orifice in the body ever could hope to be. It's how the baby will get out.
[Timer rings. Cookies spun around. Part two.]
Jonah is on a heightened state of alert - orange, possibly creeping into red. He's gotten up in the middle of the night a couple of times (though he goes back to bed easily when he realizes it's not morning), he's resisting bedtime, and this morning he freaked out quite a bit because the piano room (off the living room) is suddenly overtaken with the contents of a closet that we are trying to get organized before the weekend. He plays in that room, and all of a sudden it's not available. I know he needs to get used to disruptions like this and even more major ones, but I still feel for him. It's not for nothing that he's been asking to watch this about 12 times a day, and has internalized the story's text and recites it and asks if we're going to take his high chair for the baby. Luckily the chair he uses is one we just bought for him, and it feels good to be able to tell him that it's his chair, now and forever, and it won't ever get painted pink.
Preparing for labor I found and downloaded a couple of mp3s of writers reading pieces that mean a lot to me. I'm wondering, though, if music is going to be more important, and particularly music I can sing along to. Singing during contractions strikes me as a good way to relax my jaw, make sure I don't strain my face muscles, and possibly entertain those in the room...
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Gestational logorrhea, 34 weeks
By medical standards, the baby could be here in three weeks. Well, in "3-6 weeks." I look around the apartment and see no evidence of our preparedness, except now we have two small packages of newborn diapers, donated by our neighbors downstairs whose month-old has just outgrown them. These diapers fit babies up to 10 lbs. Do you hear that, baby? You sure as hell need to weigh less than 10 lbs at birth, or we'll have nothing to put on you. (OK, am also hoping for selfish reasons you don't weigh 10 lbs when you come out.) I have an "udder cover," which is a fabric halter kind of thing I can use to cover up when I am nursing in public, but only because it was on offer for just the cost of shipping. I have two breast pumps which I never bothered to clean after I was done with them (NASTY - I am almost afraid to look at them). So much to get done in the coming weeks that I'm exhausted already.
Yesterday Jonah had a cold and a soupcon of fever, so I kept him home from school. I didn't get to shower all day. We didn't leave the house all day. But I loved it. I think I probably could have sent him to school - I've seen kids in his class who look far more like glazed donuts than he did - but I think my subconscious recognized an opportunity to spend one more day alone with him. Yes, there were annoying 5-minute spans where he freaked out about various things (wanting to leave the house, not wanting a poopy diaper changed) but on the whole, it was a great day. I wouldn't have traded it, especially since he's now gotten over his fear of sitting in a steamy bathroom to clear his congestion. Now he calls it a "steam party" and brings cars and trucks and I can actually leave him in there ALONE. If I were smarter, I would have figured out how to combine that with actually getting to take a shower...
The baby's movements across my belly are now easy to track by sight, and betray a creature of a certain size. It goes nuts for music and dancing, which is good, since we do a lot of that around here, as Jonah gets to know the finer parts of vintage jazz movies on YouTube (Louis Jordan, Dave Brubeck, Ella Fitzgerald, and SATCHMO!).
OK, it's 9:15 a.m. and I am determined not to piss this day away (except literally). Way too much to accomplish that cannot keep getting pushed back. I need to simulate a nesting instinct, since I apparently don't come by one naturally.
Yesterday Jonah had a cold and a soupcon of fever, so I kept him home from school. I didn't get to shower all day. We didn't leave the house all day. But I loved it. I think I probably could have sent him to school - I've seen kids in his class who look far more like glazed donuts than he did - but I think my subconscious recognized an opportunity to spend one more day alone with him. Yes, there were annoying 5-minute spans where he freaked out about various things (wanting to leave the house, not wanting a poopy diaper changed) but on the whole, it was a great day. I wouldn't have traded it, especially since he's now gotten over his fear of sitting in a steamy bathroom to clear his congestion. Now he calls it a "steam party" and brings cars and trucks and I can actually leave him in there ALONE. If I were smarter, I would have figured out how to combine that with actually getting to take a shower...
The baby's movements across my belly are now easy to track by sight, and betray a creature of a certain size. It goes nuts for music and dancing, which is good, since we do a lot of that around here, as Jonah gets to know the finer parts of vintage jazz movies on YouTube (Louis Jordan, Dave Brubeck, Ella Fitzgerald, and SATCHMO!).
OK, it's 9:15 a.m. and I am determined not to piss this day away (except literally). Way too much to accomplish that cannot keep getting pushed back. I need to simulate a nesting instinct, since I apparently don't come by one naturally.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Note to self (33 wks)
Now would be an excellent time to stop shielding Jonah from the impending arrival, and to stop feeling enraged when people ask him about it. Tonight I busted out a book I bought for him ages ago, called How You Were Born, and he seemed intrigued - probably because it was not 100% a "becoming a big sibling" book.
Also, a 3-year-old is much more capable of rising to the occasion than I think. We took him to the doctor for his annual checkup this afternoon, and instead of a long screamfest it turned out to be quite a nice visit. We can credit the pediatrician for having an incredible knack, but we've got to give Jonah credit for keeping it together, even after we were called in to the exam room immediately, before he'd had a chance to play with the trains in the waiting room.
Jonah "met" the baby this morning at my checkup, hearing the heartbeat for the first time. He was much more excited about the blood pressure machine, and the special chair that I sat in, the various parts of which he was able to move up and down with a fancy remote control. (Later, when the nurse at the pediatrician's office asked him what the baby's heartbeat had sounded like, he made a long, loud farting noise.)
Also, a 3-year-old is much more capable of rising to the occasion than I think. We took him to the doctor for his annual checkup this afternoon, and instead of a long screamfest it turned out to be quite a nice visit. We can credit the pediatrician for having an incredible knack, but we've got to give Jonah credit for keeping it together, even after we were called in to the exam room immediately, before he'd had a chance to play with the trains in the waiting room.
Jonah "met" the baby this morning at my checkup, hearing the heartbeat for the first time. He was much more excited about the blood pressure machine, and the special chair that I sat in, the various parts of which he was able to move up and down with a fancy remote control. (Later, when the nurse at the pediatrician's office asked him what the baby's heartbeat had sounded like, he made a long, loud farting noise.)
Monday, December 28, 2009
Gestational logorrhea, 33 weeks
The baby is pineapple-sized, or thereabouts (with our genes, probably 1.5 pineapples). None of my clothes fit properly any longer. We're supposed to attend a gala fundraiser for Jonah's school in late January, when I will be about 38 weeks. I can't even imagine how much of a sausage stuffed in a casing I will look by then... if I haven't gone into labor already.
I'm reading Ina May Gaskin's guide to childbirth in small doses (it's by the toilet). Trying to imagine myself having an "orgasmic" birth or kissing Josh or even touching myself during labor (all things which supposedly help). My own standards are a bit lower - I want to go into this with eyes open to the possibility of pain, but also to the possibility that it might not hurt as much as I think. I want to believe I won't necessarily tear so badly this time - getting stitched up last time sure put a damper on the immediate postpartum mama-baby bonding period. And I want to have one good goddamn photo from after the birth, where my appearance does not necessarily betray the effort expended. I have to believe I'm not asking too much, wanting these things.
Lately Jonah has been driving us crazy by seemingly forgetting how to drink properly from a cup, something he mastered a long time ago but hasn't been managing very well lately. It was very instructive to suddenly realize yesterday that his high chair isn't high enough, and as a result he isn't able to see the level of liquid in the cup, so he tilts it as he lifts it up, and thus winds up spilling down his front. Thanks to the magic of Craigslist, we now have a fancy Danish high chair that is a much better fit and height for him, in great condition, matches our dining table, and was obtained for almost $100 off the asking price of a new one. Lugged home tonight on the subway by Saint Josh. Would that all parenting problems were so easily solved! And we'll easily save another $100 in paper towels since we won't have so many messes to mop up.
Jonah is on vacation from school, and while I dreaded today, thinking I'd lost my ability to cope with him for an entire day, we actually had a ball. Helps that he woke up at a reasonable hour this morning (and came into our room to tell me a secret [that he loves me]), that the house is overrun with new toys and books he isn't burned out on yet, and that we went to the library, where we got reacquainted with our various librarian friends, and the escalators and elevators. Oh, and we had leftover pizza for lunch. The rest of this short week could be a breeze if it goes this well... but pray for me anyway.
I'm reading Ina May Gaskin's guide to childbirth in small doses (it's by the toilet). Trying to imagine myself having an "orgasmic" birth or kissing Josh or even touching myself during labor (all things which supposedly help). My own standards are a bit lower - I want to go into this with eyes open to the possibility of pain, but also to the possibility that it might not hurt as much as I think. I want to believe I won't necessarily tear so badly this time - getting stitched up last time sure put a damper on the immediate postpartum mama-baby bonding period. And I want to have one good goddamn photo from after the birth, where my appearance does not necessarily betray the effort expended. I have to believe I'm not asking too much, wanting these things.
Lately Jonah has been driving us crazy by seemingly forgetting how to drink properly from a cup, something he mastered a long time ago but hasn't been managing very well lately. It was very instructive to suddenly realize yesterday that his high chair isn't high enough, and as a result he isn't able to see the level of liquid in the cup, so he tilts it as he lifts it up, and thus winds up spilling down his front. Thanks to the magic of Craigslist, we now have a fancy Danish high chair that is a much better fit and height for him, in great condition, matches our dining table, and was obtained for almost $100 off the asking price of a new one. Lugged home tonight on the subway by Saint Josh. Would that all parenting problems were so easily solved! And we'll easily save another $100 in paper towels since we won't have so many messes to mop up.
Jonah is on vacation from school, and while I dreaded today, thinking I'd lost my ability to cope with him for an entire day, we actually had a ball. Helps that he woke up at a reasonable hour this morning (and came into our room to tell me a secret [that he loves me]), that the house is overrun with new toys and books he isn't burned out on yet, and that we went to the library, where we got reacquainted with our various librarian friends, and the escalators and elevators. Oh, and we had leftover pizza for lunch. The rest of this short week could be a breeze if it goes this well... but pray for me anyway.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Gestational logorrhea, 32 weeks
The necessary switch has flipped. Last night, with Jonah in my lap, I watched videos of him that we took when he was newborn through about 8 months old, and I finally remembered what a wonderful experience it was, watching him grow and explore, and started feeling (albeit belatedly) fortunate that we'll get to live through all of this again soon.
I'm sure someone could have told me this weeks ago, but I've been dwelling so long on the negatives, the challenges, the exhaustion of it all, to the exclusion of any joy about the impending arrival. Maybe it's this very dopey time of year, with so many people walking around half-crazed with excitement and anticipation, but I won't interrogate the source of this feeling - I'll just be grateful that it has arrived.
The baby seems to sense my change of heart, too - the past couple of days it has been not just moving, but wriggling. I can't wait to meet it on the outside and see just what it was up to in there.
I'm sure someone could have told me this weeks ago, but I've been dwelling so long on the negatives, the challenges, the exhaustion of it all, to the exclusion of any joy about the impending arrival. Maybe it's this very dopey time of year, with so many people walking around half-crazed with excitement and anticipation, but I won't interrogate the source of this feeling - I'll just be grateful that it has arrived.
The baby seems to sense my change of heart, too - the past couple of days it has been not just moving, but wriggling. I can't wait to meet it on the outside and see just what it was up to in there.
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