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!

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.

Baby E2 FAQs

I thought I'd answer some of the frequently asked questions that I get about this pregnancy. If you've asked some of these, sorry, this might be a little bit redundant. But I thought it would be nice for this baby to someday be able to read exactly what I was thinking while I was carrying him/her! And if there is anything that you'd like to know that I didn't answer, just ask!

How are you feeling?
This is the standard, right? Every pregnant woman gets this on a regular basis for the whole of the 30+ weeks that people know. And the answer is "Good!". By and large, I can't complain. I do have terrible heartburn every single day, without fail. And I feel a lot of pressure and heaviness in my womb that I don't remember with Addie. (My friend Jen speculates that this is the scar tissue from the C section giving way, since she is experiencing the same thing.) And sometimes I have trouble sleeping because I have to pee three times a night, and the baby is always so pleased with the extra room that it does some serious gymnastics by way of celebration. But honestly, those are pretty minor things.

Carrying this baby has been a really pleasant experience for me...if you don't consider the first trimester! We'll see how this goes as I continue to grow, because I'm already having some trouble tying my shoes and such. :-)

Do you think you're having a boy or a girl?
I go back and forth. I'm terrible at predicting genders. It's almost always the opposite of what I think ...for instance, I was sure Addie was a boy.

For what it's worth, this pregnancy has been exactly the same as my pregnancy with Addie. Same icky first trimester, same wretched heartburn, same super active baby, same "ambiguous" heart rate (between 140 and 150). This leads me to suspect "girl", but that probably guarantees a boy, knowing my track record! And I've had friends that have experienced identical pregnancies and had different genders and friends that swear it's different carrying a boy vs. a girl. So I guess we'll see which camp I fall into in December.

What do you want, a boy or a girl?
If I'm being really super honest, I think I'd like another little girl. In part because these two will only be two years apart, and I think it would be great to have a sibling of the same sex so close in age. And in part because then I can use all of Addie's things for this baby, because they're being born at the exact same time of year. And in part because I love little girls and I'd like a houseful of them!

Now, obviously, I'd be delighted with a little boy too. After all, it would be a new experience to have a little boy. We're all about new adventures in the Ewald household. And I think that Tim feels about boys the way that I feel about girls...ie, he wouldn't mind a houseful of sons. I'd feel almost more excited for him than I would for myself. Almost.

It's a win/win situation, really, and that's a great place to be. And now I'm really excited thinking about meeting this little person. (Insert squeal here).

How can you stand not knowing?
I hear this one a lot. Honestly, it was difficult the first time, with Miss A. I was very tempted to find out. This time, it's not even on my radar. I honestly don't want to know until it's time and I'm holding this little bundle.

I think this boils down to one main thing for me. I completely understand why people want to find out, and I don't have any sort of judgment or superiority complex about finding out vs. not finding out. I think people should just do what they want to do.

However, having experienced this with Addie, I just can't imagine that finding out from your ultrasound is anything like finding out as you meet your child. You have to really imagine yourself letting the anticipation build for months, then going through all the drama and intensity of labor, and then having your husband be the person to tell you "We have a ..." right as you see your child's face for the first time. That's a moment you can't top, and you can't ever forget. It's dramatic, it's beautiful, and it's an incredible bonding experience. Even if you are coming out of anesthesia and are slightly surprised to be alive.

What names do you like?
We seriously have a list of about five or six names for each sex. We don't care about people knowing them, but we tend not to tell folks just because we're bound to change our minds. I think what we learned with Rowan...er...Adelaide...is that we have to see the baby to really know what we want. And that we're better off just staying mum about it until we've decided, aka the birth certificate is filled out.

Are you having another c-section?
Good Lord willing, and the creek don't rise, NO! Granted, my threshold this time around is lower than a first time mother's threshold for a C section. They don't want my uterus to blow out like a bald Michelin. So it's a possibility. Though I do hope to at least stay conscious for this one, even if I go to section.

If I have my way...or rather, if I stick to my way...I'll have a natural birth. Yes, sans drugs. One of the mostly unknown (to the general public) side effects of an epidural is a slowage/stoppage of labor. And that's what happened to me. It took me SIX HOURS to get my last measly cm out of the way. That's craziness. And if I had been able to walk around, change positions, or even just move my legs, I might have been able to coax Addie into a better position. Little stubborn one just refused to turn her head for us (what a shock!) and we couldn't do much to encourage her to change her angle. Hence, our label of "failure to progress" despite the fact that full grown men were attempting to bodily drag her out of me with large salad tongs.

Believe me, I envy people that can get drugs and sleep through their dilation. I remember the full blown contractions (2 mins apart, lasting a minute apiece) very well. I seem to remember desperately wanting to escape from my own body. But experience tells us that I am not that person that is destined to be a happy labor sleeper, and I'd rather labor for six hours or so than have to deal with abdominal surgery recovery for six weeks. Especially with a two year old.

I say this now, of course. We'll see if Tim can help me remember this when I'm in transition! He may have to print this out. (That's a joke, Tim. Don't even think about it!)

A Great Big Catch Up Post

The big photo catch-up from the past few weeks, aka "The Grandparents' Section"

Mmmm...powdered sugar doughnuts for Sunday breakfast. Her expression is so "Why are you taking my picture this early, lady?"

Helping me make cookies. This was interesting. She kept throwing in random spoonfuls of flour. (They actually did turn out nicely though!)


A family walk at Quarry Hills. Well, Tim and I walked. Addie ran.
At least she's running away from the light at the end of the tunnel!
Getting in the pack with Dad. She wasn't too happy about this, she wanted to keep running.
Free at last, and hanging out with "the boys"

My favorite series from the day

This one is so Addie, it makes me laugh out loud. What joy!


My sweet little girl
In other Ewald family news, I have to laugh at my little "journey to domestic goddess-hood" tag up on the top there. That was always firmly "tongue in cheek", but it seems even funnier now...given that I just got a job, that is.

The job itself is nothing too spectacular or demanding. I'm now an "internet evaluator", which is basically exactly what it sounds like. I work from home, make my own schedule, and I basically conduct searches for this company and rate tasks for them. They have a huge book of guidelines and I'm still learning their coding process. All of my free time in the past week or so was spent 1)applying to this job, 2) taking the 8 hour exam for this job, and 3) setting up my computer and accounts for this job after I got it. So that partially explains my delay in blogging.

If you're wondering "Why?", I think this is God's way of telling me not to even attempt to go for domestic goddess territory. I'm going to have to be content with domestic mortal, I'm afraid. :-) No, in all seriousness, this was something I wanted to do to supplement our family's income and to close my resume gap, just a little bit. And it's a nice compromise between a "real" job and my commitment to being with our little ones while they're so young.

And I do still plan to pursue my self designed curriculum for becoming a better cook, a greener cleaner, and a craftier mama but it's going to have to be at a slower pace. So I'll redesign that and I'll share it with you all. Or at least that's my plan.

The other delay in blogging has been that we all got our first nasty cold of the season. Poor Addie looks like she's wearing a mask these days. A nice balaclava composed of...well, you can guess. Girlfriend hates getting her nose wiped, but also hates having a runny nose. The kinda sorta funny thing is that she's learned how to blow her nose, which is great! "What could be bad about that?", you wonder. Well, she likes to seize any random piece of material that's handy...kitchen towels, washcloths, my pants, the couch cushions...and really go for it. She blows her nose with gusto, I'll say that for her. I have to laugh even when I'm really freakin' frustrated with the smears o snot everywhere. We're working on that.

As for as Baby E2 goes, he or she is kicking right along. I myself feel totally exhausted from being sick, but it doesn't seem to have gotten Little Nugget down a bit. This pumpkin is still doing its calisthenics on the regular, which I love. Poor Tim is probably tired of me insisting that he have his hand on my stomach for many long minutes at a time to marvel at yet another kick/stretch/roll. It just doesn't get old to me.

Even though we have three more months to go before E2 makes an appearance, I've already washed and hung up all the baby neutrals and dragged the baby girl stuff into a handy place...just in case. We've got a lot of moving to do to get things settled. The office is coming out into our new office space, the guest room is moving to the old office, and Adelaide is moving to the old guest room. The baby is going into Addie's nursery. I've got my "concept" for Addie's new room down, which I'll share at a later date. I just need OTS to end so that I can get my husband back and we can actually do some of our projects!