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October 28, 2003
10/28: 23 weeks
Keep on Kickin’
After waiting and waiting and waiting some more, I finally feel kicks all the time. Dan can feel them whenever I can, and they’re getting noticeably stronger every week. Over the weekend, we were at my parents’, and I was able to convince the baby to start kicking by poking my belly so that my mom would be able to feel the baby move. What a mean mama I am. I can tell that the baby doesn’t stay in the same place since the kicks (punches?) shift around. The most common movements I feel are in my upper left and lower right abdomen—often at the same time. I wonder if the baby’s lying diagonally. I have my next midwife appointment tomorrow, so they should be able to let me know what’s going on in there.
Darn that Relaxin!
I’ve mentioned before that I have pain periodically around my tailbone. It’s the goofiest thing, because I’ll feel completely fine for three or four weeks, then BAM, I can barely walk. Last Monday was the worst yet. Standing and walking hurt, lying down hurt—the only comfortable position was sitting straight up in a chair. Oh goody, I guess I can’t use this as an excuse to get out of work. I could feel the joints in the back of my pelvis all swollen up. Yuck. We had our first Bradley class that night and finding a comfortable position to sit was terrible. The instructor had a plastic pelvis on the table, and when I determined how my bones must be arranged right now in order for me to feel them in their current position, it was disturbing. I’ve never been a fan of chiropractors, but between the Bradley instructor’s recommendation and my midwives’ suggestion, I think I’ll be making an appointment soon. I’m still somewhat skeptical, but if I can avoid pain like that on and off for the next four months, it’ll be worth it. The midwife says that if my pelvic bones are out of whack, that can impede labor’s progress too. Anything that might speed labor up sounds good to me.
Bradley Classes
I decided months ago to attend Bradley classes, and making the homebirth choice cemented that decision. But it wasn’t until two weeks ago that I finally called around to find out the local schedules. I’d heard that it’s best to start them during the fifth month of pregnancy, so I wasn’t THAT late. Maybe I should have considered the fact that instructors probably wouldn’t time their classes to fall over the holiday season, though. After talking to maybe eight instructors and leaving a few messages, it sounded like only one might work, and we’d already missed the first class and would have to reschedule my next midwife appointment. We did end up choosing that class, so now our Mondays will be spent in childbirth classes through mid-December.
Our instructor is great. She’s a doula that I’d met over the summer (I didn’t realize that until we got there) who birthed her last baby at home with one of my midwives. There are four other couples in the class, all planning hospital births with either an ob or general practitioner. I assumed we’d be the only homebirthing couple, but I was disappointed to find out that no one’s even using a CNM. We’re all due between mid-January and mid-March.
The first class we spent talking about prenatal testing. I was the only person who hadn’t had an ultrasound. Most of them had done the triple-screen and one had had an amnio after getting poor results. I didn’t learn too much new since prenatal testing is something I’ve read a lot about, but Dan picked up a lot of things. Most of the couples seemed skeptical that there could be any risks to ultrasounds. Since Bradley classes are designed to help women get through labor without intervention, I hope these other couples are more open to that than they are to going through pregnancy without interventions!
This week we watched our first birth video. Ruth, the instructor, purposely showed one with just home and birth center births so we could see babies being born in tubs, on the toilet, on the floor, etc., and not just in bed. It felt really strange watching these women. Not because they were in pain, but it just seemed so voyeuristic to me. Most of the women were naked and had a number of family and friends with them, and I just don’t envision my own labor going like that. I know people say that you lose your sense of modesty somewhere along the way, but I’ve never been someone who wanted to walk around the house naked. I see myself wearing a long nightshirt, or a swimsuit top if I’m spending most of labor in a tub. And having all those people around? Forget that. Dan and the midwives, sure. Maybe my sister-in-law. But that’s it. Our moms can come after the baby arrives, but not before. I realized later that women willing to show their birth videos to the nation are likely to be the same people who invite all their family and friends to their labors. But not me.
Apparently, we missed the introduction to various relaxation techniques since we missed the first class, but we’re catching up now. It sounded pretty goofy to be told that I should breathe normally. I knew that Bradley isn’t into hoo-ing and hah-ing, but it still seemed odd that we paid a decent chunk of money to be told to breathe from my abdomen. I sure don’t mind the massage techniques that we’re learning though. Who cares if I like them during labor—I’ll enjoy the practice time.
Munch, Munch, Munch
Just when I thought I had finished keeping track of my food intake, I found out that I need to write down everything I eat and drink until our class is done in December! I cheated this past week and used my notes for the midwife that I’d taken the week before. But as of today, I’m back writing it all down. I conveniently finished off the ice cream cake last night. Hey, it’s all about the protein in dairy, right? I have to count up my grams of protein too. Milk is my friend. I will be drinking lots of milk. I know I need to work on my eating, but geez, it’s sure guilt-inducing to see every bite-sized candy bar written on paper. I guess it’s a good thing we’ve procrastinated buying Halloween candy.
Speaking of eating, I stepped on the scale at my parents’ over the weekend. I hadn’t done that in a couple weeks, and I’d been hovering around X+10 or12 then (at my last midwife appointment three weeks ago, my official weight was X+9). Well, the scale said X+18! Eek! Now, I was wearing heavy corduroys, and had just eaten, and it was the end of the day, all of which add up, but X+18?! I’m going to hope that my “real” gain is more like 15 pounds at this point. I’ll see what the midwife’s scale says tomorrow. I realize that late second trimester I’m due to have a weight gain spike here or there. But what if I keep up at this rate? I really don’t feel like I’m gaining anywhere but my torso. Even my hips don’t seem that much larger than pre-pg, and I usually gain there first. I’m not swelling at all, so I’ll just hope that either the scale was loopy or my body’s just catching up with the fact that the baby’s starting to put on real weight now.
How Far Along?
I was 23 weeks on Saturday, and according to my favorite milestone book, the baby should weigh a whole pound now. Wow, I can’t believe we’ve graduated to pounds from grams and ounces. Grow baby grow!
Another key point about 23 weeks—isn’t that the stage at which the baby has a 50/50 shot at survival outside the womb? Maybe it’s not 50/50, but the baby would have a chance now. Either way, it’s amazing to think that I’ve grown a mini-person big enough that I’m not essential for survival anymore. You can feel free to stay put for another four months though, okay baby?
The Name Game
Dan and I have decided that we aren’t going to make a final decision about this baby’s name until we get the chance to meet him or her. However, we still need to come up with some possibilities. I’ll admit that I’ve been leaning towards one girl and one boy’s name for months, but I figured we probably ought to discuss them at some point. So last week, I brought up the topic and discovered that Dan’s not as keen on my favorite boy name as I am. Hmm. After each taking a baby name book and throwing names at each other from A to Z, we came up with three girls’ and two boys’ names that we both were okay with. Not ecstatic about, mind you, but okay with. We also had one additional boys’ name and four or five girls’ names that weren’t nixed by either of us. And I have a girls’ name (Aurora) and he has a boys’ name (Reuben) that we really like while the other hates. Since my memory’s shot and Dan’s is shaky to begin with, we wrote all these down. I’ve mentioned a couple of our favorites to family and friends months ago, but I’m determined to keep mum about our ‘finalists’ until something’s written on a birth certificate. Our favorites tend to be off the Top 25 lists, but spellable and pronounceable, and many are either saints’ names or Scandinavian. When I was ten, I used to make lists of my favorite names, narrowing them until I came up with a favorite. Somehow naming a real, live child is a lot harder.
Okay, I’m Obsessing
I’ve given up convincing myself that I don’t care about my weight. Nothing’s going to convince me to eat less ice cream, but it’s impossible to be nonchalant stepping on a scale either.
I discovered a couple weeks back that the building kitty-corner to mine at work has a scale in the lobby. I went that direction for lunch today to satisfy my curiosity over whether the 18 pound gain was real or not. Wearing a sweater and shoes, it said I was 15.5 lbs over my pre-pg weight. Before lunch, but after downing 32 ounces of water. Okay, I feel better now.
The Comments Are Flying in Now
I appear to have crossed the line into the world of blatantly obvious pregnant mamas. In my last entry I mentioned that wearing a tent-sized shirt made everyone stare at my belly. Well, it doesn’t matter what I wear anymore, the world finds a way to comment. Yesterday I was wearing a bulky sweater and someone who didn’t know me still asked how far along I was. There’s no going back now! It’s getting easier to find clothes that fit from my maternity pile. Some still seem too big, but there are plenty that work. It’s usually fun to have random co-workers ask how I’m doing. I haven’t had too many unwelcome belly rubs. The only really annoying belly-related encounters I’ve had were with my sister and my SIL. On separate occasions, each of them walked up to me and lifted up my shirt. Once, Dan’s uncle was right there, and I barely know the guy. The other time, my grandpa was just behind her. Now, I love these people, but it felt really intrusive to get my shirt lifted up like that. I later told both of them that it made me uncomfortable and that in the future, all they needed to do was ASK and I’d happily show off my belly. Preferably without lots of people around. Yikes. Dan said I should use double-sided tape to keep my shirt down if I wanted to guarantee no one did that.
New Homeowner Report
The past two weekends were complete opposites—we had a housewarming party (actually two) for our families the first weekend and barely left the house during the second. It was great seeing my grandparents at our house. My two grandmas both made it upstairs to get the full tour despite neither of them regularly climbing more than three stairs a day. My mom, her brother, and her dad attacked our Creeping Charlie, and grandpa found three rose bushes in our backyard. Whaddya know! When our nieces and nephew came over for dinner (along with their parents, my parents and sister, and Dan’s parents and sisters), they did minimal destruction to our house, which has no toys and isn’t childproofed. We got the place relatively clean before anyone showed up. We even managed to register for baby things during the three hour break between parties. (We went to Peapods, a local store that I’ve probably mentioned before, and just marked down diapers, covers, soaps, and a couple books.)
My sister and one of Dan’s sisters hung all our framed photos and pictures while they were here (with my blessing). We’d never get around to doing that stuff ourselves, and they tend to have a better eye than we do. It would have been nice if the picture behind our bed hadn’t crashed down at midnight, but the glass shards didn’t fall onto the bed, so it wasn’t completely irritating. We’ve got a few photos to hang still and that picture to fix, but we won’t bother until we get a better method of hanging things in the plaster walls.
This weekend, we got a lot of little things accomplished but spent most of the time relaxing. We have a shower curtain for the first time. The air conditioners are put in the basement. We have a phone upstairs. And I got a bunch of knitting done, along with my health history for the midwives (it’s ten pages!) that I’d been avoiding.
Yesterday, I got the boxes of miscellaneous things like hats, backpacks, my stamp collection, old letters, photography tidbits, and my flutes out of the back bedroom closet and found homes for everything. Most of it went into our closet, but since my mom gave us these stackable crates, we’re able to make use of our deep, shelf-less closet. We’re getting closer and closer to being ready to put baby stuff in that back bedroom!
On Wednesday, a contractor came to talk about our kitchen options. It looks like our budget will allow us to get all new cabinets, countertops, and a sink (hurrah!) with some extras. I wasn’t planning to replace the flooring or the appliances, so this should work well. We still need to decide what kind of cabinets we want though. I’m thinking the most reasonable thing might be to get maple ones to match the hardwood floors elsewhere on the first floor. But I need to figure out what type of wall tile and countertops will look best in a century-old house. If we’re on the ball and make some decisions quickly, it looks like the renovations would be done before Christmas. Yippee!
TTM: I need advice for kitchen extras. What sort of things will I wish we’d added but not know about until later? Our counter space is at a premium, so I’m thinking about adding a flip-up shelf next to the sink to help when we’re washing dishes. And I like the idea of one bigger sink with a small area for rinsing. Good idea or bad?
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