A Watched Uterus...

...will never contract.

I'm pretty sure there's a proverb like that, right?

Actually, lack of contractions is not my problem. It's more like "lack of regular and powerful contractions."

If you didn't read my earlier post, here is a link to it. http://taraewald.blogspot.com/2011/12/dr-jekyllmr-hyde.htmlThis should update you on what has been happening. Reader's Digest condensed version: prodromal labor.

Also, I have an induction scheduled for 7:30 AM on Friday, December 30. So at the very least I'll have a baby at the end of this week.

Physically, I'm in a better state than I was at the beginning of the week. I feel stronger, more rested, and able to eat. That's a good thing for whenever labor finally really happens.

Emotionally, I'm past Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde and into...someplace worse. Or to be more accurate, I have hit bottom (I think) and have now started to resurface.

I don't come onto my blog to post a rosy version of my life, so I'm just going to be honest and say that I've been in an awful mood for the past three days. I've vacillated between intense anger at 1) myself in general 2) my uterus in particular 3) my unborn child (nice, right?) and 4) God 5) my husband (not sure why, it must be his fault somehow) and 6) everyone else on this planet.

I've been deeply depressed, complete with crying jags. I've managed to convince myself that my child is bound to be a problem child that I will never understand and that we aren't in sync the way Addie and I were and are. And believe me, that's depressing. I've been filled with nervous energy that sends me into a frenzy and then completely lethargic for hours at a time.

Basically, I am MomZilla.

And if I haven't answered your very sweet texts, emails, calls, carrier pigeons, it's not because I don't appreciate the thought and the time... it's just that I'm so volatile, that I really honestly couldn't talk about all of this until right now for fear that I'd start screaming and throwing myself on the nearest available person and throttling them a la Steve Irwin on a large crocodile.

Anyway, that was then. I think...I hope...I pray...that I'm over the worst of the insanity. When I think about why I am reacting this way, I think there are a few things at work.

As any pregnant woman knows, you're subject to some crazy hormone surges at the end of your pregnancy and right after delivery. I can actually feel anger flooding through my system and taking me hostage. Ask Tim about the morning this week that the sun flooding into our kitchen sent me into a rage. I can feel it happening, but I'm not really sure what to do with it. I usually just have a small tantrum and then slump in relief when it's over. So that's part of it.

The other part of it is true grief that my plans didn't work out. I suppose I should admit to a slight character flaw here...I really like for things to work out the way I've imagined them. I have a great imagination and I'm capable of really pinning my hopes on things that may not actually be within my control. Like...when I go into labor and the days following said labor.

I never thought I'd get to have my family with me when I went into labor. I never thought they'd be able to visit us in the hospital or witness Addie meeting her sibling for the first time. That's one of the drawbacks of living far away. You have to plan for "when the baby is definitely here" which means giving up on those "firsts".

Except that this year, I thought it would work out because everyone was spending Christmas here...except for Desi, who had to work. That was sad, but it was still a lot more than I'd ever hoped for...it was like this really impossible dream was coming to come true and I was so so happy about it. Really really ridiculously excited and happy and grateful and sort of overflowing with joy.

Which is awesome...except when it doesn't work out the disappointment is sickening and so lowering. Because Dad got sick. And Dillon had to stay with him. And Jordan has already had to go home. And my Mom has very few days left. And I have no baby yet.

And the disappointment was so huge and crushing and my own attempts to go into labor were so frenzied and I put so much pressure on myself that I really didn't enjoy Christmas at all. In fact, we had Tim's family over for brunch on Christmas morning, and I managed to really personify the Christmas cheer at the end of the meal. Everyone was going for a walk and Tim was urging me to go and made the mistake of saying it would put me in a better mood. To which I roared "I am in a good mood, God d**n it!"

Yes. Clearly.

I kind of laugh at that memory, because let's face it, if you can't laugh, you'll just cry. And I'm tired of crying. At some point, you just have to come to an acceptance of the fact that you can't always make perfect plans or even good plans.

And that's been the story of this whole pregnancy, to be honest. I didn't plan for ANY of it to be like it has been, at either extreme of the wonderful and the awful. I didn't think I'd be pregnant so soon after a miscarriage. I didn't think I'd face bleeding and pelvic rest at 11 weeks. I didn't think I'd be so dilated so early. And I didn't think I'd be so overdue. I didn't think I'd be looking at an induction, which is the exact opposite of the natural childbirth I've been preparing for for months. I must be a slow learner, because I'm still trying to plan and prepare and the real lesson of my pregnancy seems to be "Let go and let it be."

So here I am, working through my tangled emotions on good old patient Blogger and trying to let it be what it's going to be. It has been an arduous process, but I'm sure that it was a necessary process. I wish I could say it's the last time I'll have to learn this lesson, but it's definitely too soon to say that! In any event, this will be continued, sooner rather than later...and in the meantime, if you're so inclined, you can pray for family's continued patience with my volatile self!

Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde

Note: I originally wrote this very early Friday morning, on the 23rd of December.

So I’ve somehow ejected my Wireless LAN card and I can’t figure out how to “re-ject” it, which is mildly irritating. But I’m mildly irritated by lots of things these days, ranging from an inability to get a good night’s sleep to overly repetitive holiday songs.

In fact, I'm mostly irritated by everything right now. I feel like I have a split personality, hence the title.

I have my moments where I calmly sip raspberry leaf tea (meant to stimulate labor, thank you, Nicole!) and rock on the birthing ball (thank you, Laura) and page through my kindly texts and emails (thank you, many people) and read positive birth stories and feel really Zen and patient and lovely.

OK, actually that only happened once.

Mostly, I'm irritated. How long can one woman walk around at 4 cm dilated and have NO BABY?? Apparently a long time, folks, Four weeks and counting, to be exact.

It’s about 4:15 AM here and I’m just hanging out on my birthing ball, contracting away. Again. Probably fruitlessly. Again. You see, I’m having what experts like to call a “prodromal labor” and laypeople like to call a “hellish” labor.

This all started Sunday evening. For six hours, I had powerful but irregular contractions. I charted them and it was something like 8 minutes apart, 12 minutes apart, 2 minutes apart, 6 minutes apart, 14 minutes apart. You get the drift. In addition, and this might be TMI, but really, modesty is pretty much beyond an overdue woman, I was puking, poo-ing, shaking uncontrollably, and experiencing terrible back pain. Around 1 AM I ended up in the shower, hoping for some relief, only to find that my legs actually wouldn’t hold me up and that sitting was too painful. I wedged myself into a corner in a half crouch and cried. And I don’t remember the last time physical pain made me cry. Probably when I was in labor with Addie? Point being, it was a long time ago and I haven’t really felt that ill in a loooong time.

All of this activity finally ceased, leaving me weak and exhausted. The whole next day I couldn’t eat and I was so tired and sore you would think I’d run a marathon. Had I gone into “true” labor then, I would have had nothing left to work with…even walking up our half flights of stairs in our split level home left me dizzy and sick. Tuesday I felt good again…able to eat, to do a few simple chores, to face the thought of labor with some eagerness….only to repeat the same experience Tuesday night. Weds was awful again and Thursday was good. And now here I am again. Thankfully the back pain and nausea are gone. I can’t sleep through these contractions but I have an appointment this morning where they intend to strip my membranes. So maybe that will really kick start things. Please God, may it kick start things.

This usually happens because baby is not in a good position for birth. Labor wants to start, but something is holding it up. Little E2 is head down and mostly in the right position…or he/she was as of last Friday….but it’s possible that this little one has a hand over its head….or is doing a downward facing dog in there….something is just not quite right. So. Here I sit.

My saving grace is that my mother and youngest sister have made it into town. My dad and brother were also supposed to be here, but my dad has some kind of terrible virus and his doctor asked him not to travel. My brother stayed home with him. That’s really sad for us, but it was the right thing for both of them to do. Dad has had two hospital admissions in the last few months for serious reasons each time, so I am glad he’s staying home to get well. And at the very least, Mom and Jordan can play with Addie and keep her entertained. She was so bored with me earlier in the week, because my parenting really maxed out with an endless stream of movies and desperate prayers that she would sleep for a really long time at naptime.

Speaking of sleeping…of course that little minx would choose THIS week to decide that her crib is no longer an acceptable bed. You just have to laugh. Ads is making sure that we don’t forget about her even in the midst of all this labor drama.

This all started Wednesday at naptime. I put her down and heard her making a huge ruckus but I thought she was kicking her wall, which used to be her favorite form of protest if she didn’t want to lie down at that exact time. Well, normally we go in and reprimand her for doing that, but I was just too tired to move. I slipped into a mild coma and woke up when Addie did, about two hours later. I went into her room and my mouth literally fell open. She’d done an excellent impression of “angry rock star in a hotel room” and trashed the place. EVERYTHING was thrown around…all her stuffed animals, the diapers, the wipes, the carefully packed bags for baby and Ads….it was all strewn around in an impressive display. And in the midst of the chaos, surveying everything with a satisfied look and a carpet imprint on one flushed cheek, was Miss Adelaide.

Oh, boy.

Since then I’ve gone into her room after each naptime and bedtime, to find various tokens of protest scattered around and an indignant toddler sacked out on the floor in some uncomfortable position. And once I found an indignant toddler hanging precariously from the second highest shelf of her bookshelf and declaring “I’m fine…I’m fine…” in an increasingly panicked tone of voice.

Oy.

She does have a toddler bed and once our visitors are over with, we’ll make the move for Addie. But for now, we just have to monitor her “falling asleep” activities with unusual vigilance.

Little does Addie know that there is NO danger of her being overshadowed. The kid is cracking me up these days. Her new favorite phrases are always being employed to humorous effect. She wanted the pen I was writing with, and I said “Addie, no, I’m using this right now.” To which she immediately declared “Mommy! Share!” And on the same day, she grabbed my coveted Cherry Coke away from me and I said “Hey, Addie, don’t do that. Let me have my drink back.” And she imperiously demanded “How you ask?” She’s definitely two and IN CHARGE…or so she thinks. We’re of course trying to curb her excesses without showing our laughter too much. But it’s difficult to keep a straight face. She’s sassy.

My contractions are fading out now...of course(%$#)...so it's back to bed with me. I hope the next time I write it will be to tell our birth story!

Fee-Fi-Ho-Hum...

...just waiting on a little baby to come!

Thank goodness I look so fabulous. It makes the wait so much easier.

How hilarious is this picture? My friend Kristin has been telling me to send her a belly pic for weeks.My sister made this for me when I was pregnant with Addie and I stumbled upon it the other day. I thought it was good for a laugh. Needless to say, this is NOT me (it's Britney Spears' first pregnancy, I think) and I don't exactly look like this. I have been poor about maternity photographs this time around...and I'm pretty sure it's a Freudian thing, all of my "forgetting" to take those pics. It's not that I mind my belly so much...it's more the jowls that I could do without. Cameras are just not my favorite thing at the moment.

By the way, this is the problem with confident predictions (mine and everyone else's!) that you'll go into labor early. You end up being 39 weeks pregnant (today!) and feeling two weeks overdue. Grumble, grumble. I keep reminding myself that I'm not actually due for another week. Thus far, it's only kinda sorta working.

We have been keeping busy in an effort to pass the time. Our house is becoming (more) organized, with some long overdue clearing out efforts finally coming to fruition. And we've been busy with the usual whirl of errands, classes, and social activities.

This is a picture from the night we went to get our Christmas tree. It was snowing a ton and we bundled up in our cozy clothes for the trip to the tree yard. Since then, the snow has disappeared in favor of some nasty cold rain. I must be becoming a Minnesotan because I'm actually really disappointed in our gray and soggy December. I find myself hoping that it will snow again in time for Christmas, especially since my family is coming out here. If they're going to come all this way, I want them to have the authentic experience!



We also attended the Ortho Dept. Holiday Party, which everyone jokingly refers to as the "Ortho Prom" because we all get dressed up and head out without kids for a night out. I posted a few pictures of our friends on Facebook, but here are a few Tim and I from the night out.




And some of our year, out afterwards. This is courtesy of Nicole Klika's Facebook.


I do have my weekly appt today, and I'm looking forward to it. I love hearing this little one's heartbeat and let me tell you, he/she loves to keep us guessing. Last week the heart rate was in the 140s. Just a mere 30 point difference from the week before! So now I'm wondering if it's a boy (?!?!)

At this point, I just want to hold my baby. I've got no preference other than"come meet us!" Except that when I actually start to wonder if I might be in labor, I get really scared because...y'all...I'm trying to do this naturally. AM I FREAKING NUTS? is what goes through my head a lot of the time. I know my own reasons and think they're good reasons for trying to avoid interventions, but I'm still battling last minute cold feet. Thank heavens my husband is an absolute pro at holding the line, though really, how hard is it for him? :-) Still, I'm lucky that he's the "immovable object" in this situation because labor really is an irrestible force. Fortunately he's working with me, and not against me!

Speaking of holding my baby, I'm holding my big and busy toddler as much as she'll let me these days. Fortunately she is going through a super snuggly phase. She asks me to "hold you" all the time. As soon as I pick her up, I settle her on top of my bump, and she wraps her legs around me (no small feat) and then lays her head on my shoulder and says "Shhhh shhhh" to herself, whether she is upset or not. It's so cute. Her other favorite cuddle move is to bring me a blanket and ask to get "cozy" and "Read books. On the couch." Always in two separate statements. Addie also likes to put her face in our faces and say "HIIIIIIIIIIII" while hugging whatever body part she can reach (neck, knees, arms) as fiercely as possible.

Addie's been working on some big sister skills as well, by mimicking parts of what Tim and I do. Only parts though, as you'll see. She loves to wrestle with her dolls the way that she and Tim rough house every day when he gets home from work. She'll run into the living room holding her doll upside down, dangling by a leg, and shouting "I got ya! I got ya!" as she flings it around and usually drops it and crushes it. And she likes to comfort her baby dolls when they're "upset". I watched her take her baby, bash its head into the wall, and then say "shhh, shhh, it's ok" while she held it and patted it's back. Oh dear. We might have to work on that concept a bit.

And as many of you know, tomorrow is Addie's second birthday. Birthdays are always special, but Addie's is especially great because she shares that birth date with her Daddy. We are having a small party tomorrow night, if all continues on as it is now. If things don't continue on in the same vein, how funny would it be if this baby decides to come on the 16th as well? Tim seems very daunted by this prospect. One baby was cool, but two being born on his birthday kind of freaks him out. But as I told him "You get what you get and you don't pitch a fit" which is one of the more annoying phrases a parent can use. I'm sure he was appreciative of my wisdom.

And here a few random photos from a grandparent/auntie visit a few weeks ago.




Below is a video of Addie from her Romp n' Roll class. This particular part of class is her absolute favorite. It's the very last activity that they do, other than receiving their stamps, and it involves chasing bubbles. She looks forward to this every Tuesday and always eagerly asks about the "bubble chase".




I'll post some pictures of the birthday girl and man from that event, plus some reflections on where Addie is now later on... I hope. Right now, Calum has arrived and Addie's Ca-dar will be waking her up in about 30 seconds to commence the fun.

Gold Stars and Frowny Faces

Thanksgiving Lunch at the hospital with Dad

The many juice boxes of Adelaide







Post nap crazy hair

Ah, how I love my blog. I love sitting down at the computer in the early morning with some hot chai and watching the sunrise while I organize my thoughts. So why don't I do this more often? The answer varies, but it's always a time vs tiredness issue.

Lately I've been tired because I'm super nesting. Not just organizing my utensil drawer and refolding towels but actually scrubbing all three of my tiled bathrooms with a lemon and salt. That kind of nesting. And it's possible that I have been drilling a lot lately. Tim came home to discover me with a power tool in my hand and said "No offense, but this makes me really nervous." OK, so I'm not the best at hanging things on a straight line. Everyone has their flaws. I have a few crooked pictures and such, but my hard water stains are fading and my bathroom smells great. Plus, it's cheap! Thank you, Pinterest.

Sidenote: How did we live without Pinterest? How? If I need to cook, clean, decorate, or just waste half an hour (ok, an hour or two), I always go to this site. My thought process goes like this: "Oh, I'd like to clean my stove burners. Better check Pinterest!" And fyi, ammonia and a sealed ziploc, folks. That's how you get rid of stubborn rust and goo on your nasty burner grills. "Oh, I need a quick dessert for the potluck...better check Pinterest!" "Oh, I wonder if it's possible to make glitter out of recycled tinfoil?!?" (Yes, by the way) And so on.

Anyway, I'm super nesting because I'm sure and certain this baby won't wait until Dec. 22nd to make an appearance. I've probably just guaranteed an induction ten days after my due date by writing that down, but we shall see. I visited the midwives on Tuesday for my 36 week checkup and they said E2 is doing great. The heart rate was 168 to 173 (girl?!?!) and that baby probably weighs somewhere in the mid 7s to low 8s. Already. Yikes. Moreover, baby's head is at zero station and I'm already 50% effaced and 3 cm dilated. Double yikes. I need more lemons!!! That was a few days ago, of course, and I'm now 37 weeks. Baby has dropped even lower and I now officially waddle instead of walk. Ah, pregnancy milestones.

As THE big day approaches, I find myself really excited and really apprehensive. There are days when I think I've got parenting Addie "down". By which I mean that we have a great day together, we accomplish everything we need to accomplish, the house is clean, I cook dinner, I wear makeup, I dry my hair into a not-weird shape, and things feel totally manageable. Those are Mommy's gold star days. You know, you used to have those charts in elementary school where you got gold stars or something similar. It was a symbol that you did a good job that day.

Then there are those other days. You know. PLEASE tell me you know. The days where your kid watches not one but about four movies. The days where you eye the laundry and think "not today". The days where you tell your husband that dinner is whatever he brings home. And maybe you get up late after listening to your kid jumping in her crib for about half an hour, and maybe you take the entire naptime to ...well...nap, and maybe you go to bed early after watching four episodes of "Dance Moms". Those are Mommy's frowny face days. I loathe those days.

Or in a slightly humorous example: a few weeks ago, I started feeling very odd. I was having a lot of back pain and pressure and I just felt...weird. So I thought "I'll take a shower. That will ease some of the ache and make me feel more with it." And of course, Tim works so many hours that a lot of my showers end up being with Addie. She might come in with me, or very occasionally I'll let her play in the bathroom while I shower. This was one of those "let her play" times.

Well, here I am standing in the shower thinking "I really don't feel good. Gosh, I don't feel well at all. In fact, I'm going to throw up." And sure enough, I got sick and was left sort of crouching in misery on the bathroom floor when I became aware of a rythmic "zzzzshhh zzsshhh zzsshh" sort of sound. And I knew exactly what it was. It was the sound of Addie patiently pulling out 100 yards of waxed dental floss. And guess what? I didn't care. I stayed right there in the shower and let my child yank out a football field's worth of thread into a messy nest on the floor. At $1.99 it was great value for the few moments of peace that I needed to get it together. But it's not really a gold star moment.

So I worry a bit about how I'll handle this transition to two children. I don't always have it together with ONE, after all. So it stands to reason that I won't always have it together with two. I'm not used to dividing my time and attention. And I have a little bit of grief about losing that special quality of "just me and you" that Adelaide and I have together. She's my girl. We're constant companions and she's just...all mine. Most of the time. Tim does occasionally expect me to share. :-)

I expect things to be hard at first. But the reason that we have more children is because it's a good thing. In fact, it's a wonderful thing. We are giving ourselves, Addie, and the baby the greatest gift possible. We are growing our family.

My goal for the next few months has nothing to do with having a perfectly run household. I think I'll be giving myself gold stars if I enjoy the day. If I revel in not one, but two, precious faces. If I'm positively slain by the perfect crescents of lashes on plump cheeks and flashing dimples and bits of fine flyaway hair sticking up. I am going to count my achievements by the number of cheeks and lips and hands kissed and the feel of sturdy little bodies clinging to me. And I'll remind myself that laundry is not yet mobile, that showers don't need lemon salt scrubs on a weekly basis, and that it's really OK if Ads wants to fling all of her washcloths and towels into a big pile on the floor. Those things are mundane. Savoring the little moments that comprise a big life change is not ordinary and it's too important to dismiss in favor of something like Swiffering the floor. Besides, who am I kidding? It's winter in Minnesota, and I've got two dogs. The floor is never going to be perfectly clean!

There will be gold star days in my future again, but the real lesson is going to be figuring out what to award myself "stars" for accomplishing. And I think it's got to be all about happiness and not orderliness.

Pre much needed hair cut!

Love.