Category Archives: Pregnancy

Holy Shit, I Shaved

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You may not take shaving to be a great feat but, for a woman just recently out of pregnancy, it’s reason for celebration. As for Scott, he’s got the party hat on and streamers up. I hate to see what he comes home from the party store with on my first day back into the ol’ pre-baby jeans. Something tells me it won’t be the balloons and streamers type of party store on that day, though.

The thing about pregnancy is – It sucks. Yes, I know I’ve said that before but, believe me, it deserves another mention. Hormones are high, ankles are large, and don’t get me started on that one random greasy spot in my hair that even the industrial sized shampoo couldn’t get rid of.

In fact, the only thing worse than pregnancy are the few months following it. I forgot about this part. I’m fairly confident that women block out all things involving child-bearing as a survival method ’cause good God, if we remembered what it was like the last time every time, let’s face it – The human race would have ended years ago.

In case you are considering more children, here’s a handy guide to remind you of all things that suck after childbirth. Just in case you forgot.

- Two big, round, wet spots on the front of your shirt everytime the child cries. So, pretty much always.
- Sore, full, rubbery boobs.
- Miserably painful abs. (If you are on pregnancy #3 or more – “abs” are those things you had before #2)
- Leaky bladder.
- Flabby belly.
- Hungry all the time. All. The. Time.
- Blubbering episodes. Possibly worse than your newborn’s.
- Everybody hates you. Or, so you think. Not all that bad – since you hate them more.
- Sleep. Come again?
- Time stops every 3 hours. On the dot.
- Nothing fits. Maternity clothes are too big and everything else is too small.
- Exhaustion. To tell ya the truth, I already forgot what this post was about.
- Grocery shopping. Could also be mistaken for a circus act.
- Tack on another hour to everything that you do. Everything.
- Terribly jealous #1 and #2 that fight for lap space.
- Pregnancy hormones x 1,000,000

I need a nap.

I’m a Little Overwhelmed Right Now

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Holy crap, where to start, right? I finally feel like I can take a deep breath and maybe – just maybe – get my normal life back. Well, normal life +1.

In the last few weeks we’ve had Christmas, a birthday, and of course, little baby Ruby! I have so much to tell you I just might vomit all over this computer. Needless to say, the next few days are going to be full of news, pictures, stories, feelings, and even more pictures. I warn you, though, I just had a baby – I could break into tears and have a complete emotional breakdown at any moment. If this should happen, don’t panic, just send chocolate. Lots of it.

Our little girl was born Thursday, December 30th, at 8:04am via C-Section. Not my birthing method of choice, but the safest one for little Ruby as she was breech due to my bicornuate uterus. Good thing we decided to go ahead with the C-Section, she was a tough little gem to remove as her head was stuck way up in my right horn. Scott said he couldn’t believe how long they held her by the feet up in the air while trying to remove her head! Apparently she made them work for it. If you are unfamiliar with this condition, see my article on having a bircornuate uterus in pregnancy here.

She weiged 7lbs 9oz at birth and measured 19 1/2 inches long. Aside from the Jaundice, she is a perfectly healthy little girl. All three of my babies ended up having Jaundice, Hunter is the only one that had to be treated.

We ended up staying in the hospital until Saturday, a typical length of stay for a C-Section patient. The recovery from the C-Section has been much more challenging for me than the vaginal births were. I was up and around the next day after my first two children were born, this time I am only now able to be up and around without experiencing a great deal of pain. The evenings are difficult after a day of moving, my whole belly feels like one giant bruise. I can’t wait to be pain free and completely back to normal! You know, aside from the bowl full of jelly that sits where my stomach once was.

Hunter and Sophie are doing great, we are trying like hell to get them back into their normal routine. Hunter of course knew what was coming, Sophie on the other hand is struggling with some jealousy. She is mommy’s little girl (daddy’s little girl in progress if you ask daddy!) and doesn’t like this new idea of sharing me. Also, her idea of being helpful is pretty much everything but!

I have only begun to see the challenges ahead. Daddy was gone for a couple of hours this morning and it took me almost that entire time to try and take a shower. Not until he returned was I finally able to jump in. Two tired babies who refused to sleep = one tired and showerless mommy. Scott goes to work on Monday, so I’ve got one more day to figure out this juggling act on my own.

Cheers to new baby! Boo for having to face reality and start losing all of that baby/peanut butter weight!

PS: Notice that first pic? The one with me right after I had a baby looking like I got ran over by a dump truck? Yeah – who loves you?

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Unfortunately, the Easy Button Doesn’t Apply

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I got a call from the nurse this morning, my C-Section is scheduled for next Thursday. Not only am I shaking in my boots, I’m fairly certain that I could star in a weight loss pill commercial given the large brown spot on the back of my pants. You know – the ones with “uncontrollable oily diarrhea” as a side effect. Which, last time I checked, is just about every one of them.

I have friends that have C-Sections because they are too scared to give birth naturally. Obviously, these are my crazy friends. Sorry Kristy.

Its not the taking a knife and slicing me open like a fish filet at the Red Lobster, its the doing that while I’m awake that makes me want to poop my pants. I’ve had surgery before. One of the great blessings that I inherited from my mother was gallbladder disease. To this day I have no idea why we have a body part that we could do without. It makes me a little nervous considering Ancient Egyptians thought the brain was useless. Then again, I guess in certain instances it is. Oh, snap.

So, there’s no turning back now. Believe me, I checked. While I haven’t read the Bible from front to back, I am somewhat familiar with it and I’m fairly certain that it says somewhere in there that this isn’t the sort of thing that can be reversed. I also called Staples, they said the easy button doesn’t apply.

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I’m a Blackmailing Son of a Bitch (sorry mom)

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I suppose that would be “daughter of a bitch” – or mom, if you’re reading this, “daughter of a very nice, warm, loving, dear mother” – but, it just doesn’t have the same tongue-roll affect. Deal.

This morning as I was browsing the web to bring you, my totally awesome, hot, sexy, loveable, huggable readers, the latest in news and entertainment (and my own personal bitch sessions), I came across the most awesome Christmas (ahem – I know, I’m taboo like that) card E.V.E.R. 

What?  You’re still hung up on my declaration of love for you?  Oh, quit blushing.  I only said those things because I was told to at the latest blogging conference.  Oh wait, I don’t go to those… so never mind, I guess they came from my heart. No, you still can’t have my phone number. I only have enough time and patience for one stalker/harasser/abuser of my telephone – mom.

So, anyway. I thought about posting the card up in this post. Then, I got wise. And, well, devilishly sneaky. Which, by the way, my husband totally approves of. You know – at times when I don’t have a belly the size of Homer Simpson’s. Who, by the way, I envy even with the comparable belly size – At least that bastard gets to drink a beer when he wants.

So, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go here and sign up for my RSS feed. Because you like my blog. A lot. Or, because you hate me with a passion – which also makes you wonder what I’m up to from day to day. Either way, I’m cool with it. Also, because everyone on my RSS feed email subscribers list will get a Christmas card sent to them – correction – THE Christmas card sent to them by me personally. See, aren’t I a rotten bastard? You love me for it.

If you are super fucking special and are already a subscriber – You already have your Christmas card. And, a kiss from me. Also, if you sign up for my RSS (or are already signed up) but NOT via email just leave me a comment here and I’ll send it to you… unless you want me to use my psychic abilities to get your email address. No, just leave a comment. I’m too exhausted for all of that shit.

Baby Ruby is a Slacker Already

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Its been a while since I’ve posted about baby Ruby and our recent progress. I say “our” progress because I figure she does half the work. She’s supposed to, anyway. However, at our routine visit to the doctor a couple weeks ago, I found out that Ruby is apparently slacking on her duties. She is breech and not likely to turn before delivery.

It is common for those with a bicornuate uterus to end up with breech babies at term. The reason being, baby doesn’t realize its time to turn until there is no longer room for them to. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this condition, here is a quick explanation to get you up to speed.

A bicornuate uterus or bicornate uterus, commonly referred to as a “heart-shaped” uterus, is a type of uterine malformation where two “horns” form at the upper part of the uterus.

Effect on reproduction
Pregnancies in a bicornuate uterus are usually considered high-risk and require extra monitoring because of association with poor reproduction potential.

A bicornuate uterus is associated with increased adverse reproductive outcomes like:

Recurrent pregnancy loss: the reproductive potential of a bicornuate uterus is usually measured by live birth rate (also called fetal survival rate). This rate is estimated around 63% for a bicornuate uterus.

Preterm birth: with a 15 to 25% rate of preterm delivery. The reason that a pregnancy may not reach full-term in a bicornuate uterus often happens when the baby begins to grow in either of the protrusions at the top. A short cervical length seems to be a good predicter of preterm delivery in women with a bicornuate uterus.

Malpresentation (breech birth or transverse presentation): a breech presentation occurs in 40-50% pregnancies with a partial bicornuate uterus and not at all (0%) in a complete bicornuate uterus.

Previously, a bicornuate uterus was thought to be associated with infertility, but recent studies have not confirmed such an association.

Although I am terribly disappointed with the news, I am grateful to have been able to deliver both of my first two vaginally. Hunter in particular, as he was premature. According to my OB/Gyn, a vaginal delivery for preemie babies is best because the trip through the birth canal squeezes all the crap out of their under-developed lungs.

The idea of having a C-Section is less than exciting for me. Mostly because I’m a big baby. The thought of being cut open while awake makes me want to pull my blanky out of the top drawer and throw back a few shots of vodka. Unfortunately, my doctor seriously frowns upon such behavior and I pay him a lot of money to tell me these things.

If only I could turn back time about a month and know what I know now. I’d have used hand-walking as my method of travel and removed the headboard from my bed to create an upside down slant for sleeping.

Added bonus: I’m fairly certain my husband would have slept on the couch, making plenty of room for the baby belly and body pillow. Also, a lot less snoring in my ear.

So, I’m sitting at 4 cm dilated now with 10 baby toes kicking the crap out of my cervix. My water is bound to break sooner rather than later if things continue to progress the way they are. Doctor is checking me regularly and a C-Section will be performed next week, assuming Ruby doesn’t decide she’s ready before then. Which, knowing my children, I’m counting on.

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Breastfeeding: How Old is Too Old?

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I’m a big believer in breastfeeding. That being said – while I breastfed Sophie, I bottle fed Hunter. During his stay in the NICU, Hunter refused to eat and was therefore losing weight. Rapidly. I was offered a choice: Give him a bottle or they’d give him a feeding tube. Not wanting my little 4-pounder to have to endure any more tubes shoved down his throat, I chose the bottle. Eventually, he ended up with a tube anyway.

I tried for weeks to get him to take to my breast once we got him home. It wasn’t happening. It killed me inside, but I finally threw in the white flag. And, after months of guilt and depression over not breastfeeding my newborn, you know what I learned? It didn’t hurt him a bit.

Sophie was another story, she was a boob-baby through and through. However, as much as she loved her breast milk, she was ready to be done at about a year. Her attention span would no longer stand for it. She simply lost interest.

While it was emotionally difficult for me to allow this natural weaning process (mostly because I wasn’t ready for my “baby” to be a “big girl”), I soon welcomed the freedom that it brought me.

How old is too old when it comes to breastfeeding?

 

Every now and then I’ll see a mother with a preschooler attached to her breast and, to be honest, it makes me cringe a little. I understand that the decision to quit breastfeeding is a difficult one. As a mother, its hard to accept the fact that your baby is making his way toward being a kid. It will also be difficult when he goes to college… I think we can all agree that is definitely too old.

Allow me to make myself clear. Many say that it means the mother is sick when she has a walking, talking child attached to her breast. I’ve heard it means that she’s a pervert, she’s disturbed… you name it, its been said. While I do believe that, in some instances, there is some truth to those theories (shudder), as a whole – I don’t believe them to be true.

As with anyone, I can only base my opinion off of personal experience. My experience has led to the assumption that it is just too difficult for these women to allow their children to grow up. It has also shown me that children will wean themselves when they are ready and, as a mother, you have to allow that process to take place when it is time.

How long did you breastfeed? Did your child wean him/herself? At what age do you feel it is no longer appropriate to breastfeed a child?

 

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40 Ways to Induce Labor

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…Maybe.

The 37 week mark has officially been marked off of my calendar now and, as with every other pregnant woman in the world that hits the magic “full term” mark, I’m chomping at the bit to get this thing out of me! Actually, that was a complete and utter lie. I’ve been chomping on that bit for weeks now.

Every contraction and I’ve got the stop watch out. A kick? She must be getting into place. Don’t get me started on any new-found substances down there. That’s gotta mean she’s coming today ’cause – God help me – I can’t see any other possible explanation for that.

So, as I get closer and closer to the oh-so-desirable-yet-possibly-unreachable-gonna-poke-my-eyes-out-cause-that’s-just-too-damn-far-away 40 week mark, I find myself playing Sherlock on Google more and more frequently. Specifically, searching ways to get the ball rolling and induce labor.

After all of this research, I’ve compiled a list of 40 Ways to Induce Labor. Some swear by these ways, some say they’re complete crap. I can tell you this… I will be trying each and every one of these if I live to see the day I can draw a big red X on the “40 weeks” written on my calendar.

40 Ways to Induce Labor

  1. Walk.  A lot. 
  2. Sex.  A man’s semen is thought to soften the cervix.  That paired with contractions prompted by your orgasm, its a sure fire way to get the process started.  So they say.
  3. Massage.  When massaged in particular places, labor can start.  Find a qualified therapist.
  4. Castor Oil.  Has a laxative affect that causes the onset of contractions.
  5. Spicy Food.  Upsets the digestive system which then upsets the uterus.
  6. Blue and Black Cohosh.  Increases slow contractions.
  7. Nipple Stimulation.  Releases oxytocin. 
  8. Stripping the Membranes.  Obviously, must be done by a doctor.  Slightly separates your membranes from uterus.
  9. Fresh Pineapple.  Contains a chemical said to start labor.
  10. Acupuncture.  Not sure about this one.
  11. Galloping.  Knock that baby right out of you.
  12. Pressure Points.  There are pressure points in your shoulder, ankles, webbing between thumb and forefinger, and small of back.
  13. Squatting.  Moves baby into position.
  14. Dancing.  Lots of hip swinging.  Baby could either move into position or you might scare it right out of you.
  15. Red Raspberry Leaf Tea.  For a shorter labor.
  16. Evening Primrose Oil.  Dilates and causes effacement.
  17. Relaxing.  Totally contradicts 3/4 of the rest of these.
  18. Stair Climbing.  Movement and using muscle.
  19. Bouncing on a Birthing Ball.  Helps move baby down and get him/her into position.
  20. Intense Laughter.  If you can possibly find anything humorous about being 9 months pregnant.
  21. Swimming.  Movement can only help.  Right?
  22. Yard Work.  Can cause contractions.
  23. Swinging.  A little movement just might be what baby needs.
  24. Get on Hands and Knees.  FYI: You must shake your ass while doing this.  Apparently.
  25. Bumpy Car Ride.  Nothing says “get this kid out of me!” like a bumpy car ride.
  26. Talking to Baby.  Its okay to come now, baby.  Really.  Please, come now.
  27. Balsamic Vinegar.  Use as a dressing or splash a little on the foods you eat.
  28. Basil.  Have doubts, but who knows…
  29. Borage Seed Oil.  Dilates and causes effacement.
  30. Eggplant.  Many people swear by eggplant.
  31. Licorice.  Like castor oil, it has a laxative affect which could cause the onset of contractions.
  32. Motherwort.  Best put in tea.
  33. Oregano.  I have serious doubts about this one, but its worth a try.
  34. Quinine.  Pill or liquid form. 
  35. Thyme Tea.  Couldn’t find a lot of evidence behind this one.
  36. Yoga.  I can definitely see how this could work – assuming there’s a pregnant woman in her ninth month that could actually do it. 
  37. Visualization.  I think I can.  I think I can.
  38. Squaw Vine.  This is an old remedy, not sure how well or if it works.
  39. Golden Seal.  Taken in tablet form.
  40. Chinese Food.  Unable to find reasons as to why this is said to work.  My best guess is the laxative theory.  You know, with the grease and all.

*None of the methods listed above have been proven safe or accurate.  I recommend doing your own research prior to attempting any of the suggested ways.  As always, consult a physician prior to trying anything!

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And Me Without My Paper Sack

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Recently, my mind set itself on panic mode – I just realized that I’m having another baby. Another baby. And me without my paper sack to stop the hyperventilating.

Contrary to what you may believe, which, by the way, is completely justified based on the last 6 months of “I’m pregnant and you suck” posts that have been polluting my blog, I think I just came to the realization that there’s gonna be another butt to wipe around here. This means one more year without sleep, two more years of diapers, 6 more months of tripping over baby swings and bouncy seats, and 1 more year of having a noticeably stronger right arm – courtesy of the car seat.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about the baby. I love having a baby around. The problem isn’t having A baby around, its having TWO. Sophie won’t even be two yet. She has no interest in potty training, she just figured out how to climb out of her crib yesterday, she dives off of everything she can climb on, and she’s a royal pain in the ass. A cute, adorable, huggable, loveable, sweet little pain in the ass.

Case in point: I vacuum the house twice a day because she drags the bathroom stool to my living room, backs her toy dump truck up to one of my plants, climbs up on the stool, then proceeds to fill the truck with soil from my plant. She then rolls the truck to the dining room where it is emptied into Molly’s food dish.

In hopes of making my life easier when this baby comes, I decided it was time to start making Sophie a little more independent. Not running to the drug store to buy her own cough medicine kind of independent, but the go to bed at bed time and stay there kind. She had something else in mind. Like throwing everything in her crib out onto the floor, then climbing out after it.

I broke out the baby potty the other day thinking that changing two sets of rears would get old rather quick. Better I start remedying this situation now, right? I set it in the bathroom right next to the big potty so she could come in with me and sit on it when I go. She filled it with dirt instead.

I told her she could “help” with some of the small jobs around here like feeding Molly. Actually, I told her that if she insists on getting into the dog food and sneaking it to Molly by the handful then put it in her dish instead of all over the kitchen floor. She ate it. Then, she puked.

Magic 8 ball said: Outlook not so good. Then it laughed.

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Pull Your Head Out

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Doc says 5 weeks left if I’m lucky. I say Lucky is a relative term.

If I could never-ever hear the words “so, are you ready?” again, I would die happy. To answer the question, though – YES, I am. According to pregnancy #3 guidelines, that is.

Let me give you a little run-down on what “ready” has meant to me over the years:

Pregnancy #1 – READY at 20 weeks

  • Wall colors chosen.
  • Walls painted and decorated with chair rail and decals.
  • Crib picked out, purchased, and set up.
  • Dresser picked out, purchased, and set up.
  • Nursery theme decided upon.
  • Crib bedding picked out, purchased, washed, and set up.
  • Rugs and curtains picked out, purchased, and put out.
  • Light fixtures, hardware all picked out and installed.
  • Closet organizer designed, made by daddy, and installed.
  • All clothes washed, folded and hung.
  • Diapers, wipes, diaper rash cream, baby soap all placed neatly beside the changing table.
  • Diaper pail set up and ready for its first deposit.
  • Diaper bag fully stocked, complete with baby’s take-home outfit.
  • Moms hospital bag packed, complete with slippers and toothbrush. (Also moms pre-pregnancy clothes because I was sure I would be able to walk out of the hospital in them – No joke.)
  • Baby bottles sanitized 3 times, sealed in plastic bags and placed in their very own cupboard.
  • Baby binks sanitized 3 times, sealed in tupperware containers, also placed in baby’s very own cupboard.
  • Baby bottle sanitizer set-up and ready to go.

Pregnancy #2 – READY at 28 weeks

  • Walls are just fine white.
  • Sweet, no painting to do.
  • Crib picked out, purchased, and set up.
  • Dresser picked out, purchased, and set up.
  • Nursery theme decided upon – Consists of bedding.
  • Crib bedding picked out, purchased, washed, and set up.
  • No need for rugs or curtains, blinds and carpet will do.
  • You know, the hardware and light fixtures look just fine in here.
  • No organizer needed.  Like I’d use it, anyway.
  • All clothes washed, folded and hung.
  • Diapers and wipes set ready to go.  Baby shampoo we’ll get to when we need it.
  • Diaper pail set up and ready for its first deposit. Along with air freshener.
  • Diaper bag fully stocked, complete with baby’s take-home outfit.
  • Moms hospital bag packed – Sweat pants, t-shirt and deo – Who gives a about anything else.
  • Baby bottles still in box.
  • Baby binks still in packages.
  • Bottle sanitizer – Eh, dishwasher works.

Pregnancy #3 – READY at 35 weeks

  • Walls started marroon – Shit, have to paint them white.
  • Painting done.
  • Crib – Eh, we’ll just use the one we already have.  Sweet, check that off the list.  There’s a list?
  • Hey, lets paint that old dresser in the closet violet – yeah, that’ll be cute (and free)!
  • Nursery theme decided upon – There isn’t one.
  • Crib bedding picked out – Reusing baby #2′s.
  • No need for rugs or curtains, blinds and carpet will do.
  • You know, the hardware and light fixtures look just fine in here.
  • No organizer needed.  Like I’d use it, anyway.
  • All clothes washed and in boxes that were just moved from baby #2′s room. 
  • Shit, we need to buy diapers.
  • Diaper pail – Yeah, we’ve got one.
  • Now, where did I leave that diaper bag?  Ah, right, under all the other crap in the trunk of my car.
  • Who needs a hospital bag? They give you a nightgown when you get there. Even get a fresh one in the morning.
  • Baby bottles?
  • Baby binks – Won’t make that mistake again.
  • Bottle sanitizer – Eh, dishwasher works.

Pregnancy Takes Balls

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Although I’ve been pregnant twice before, pregnancy has a way of making me feel as though its my first time every time. Not in the, “Surprise! You just look fat until at least sixth months in” kinda way. No, that’s that shit that actually sticks.

What I mean is, every kick, every cramp, every gurgle, every hangnail, every green poop that presents itself, I’m playing Sherlock Holmes on Google Search. This pregnancy is by far the worst of the three, though. As far as obsessive sleuthing goes, that is. It could be attributed to the fact that this is also the only one that the labor & delivery nurses don’t know me by name or that I’ve done a “clean catch” test about 1,000 times so p-l-e-a-s-e don’t go over it again step by step by miserable fucking step.

The funny thing about a hospital is, they make it a point to tell their patients when there’s something wrong with their body. I know – that’s the shit, right?! So, although being there sucked ass, it provided me with peace of mind that everything was still okay with baby – despite the devil sitting on my shoulder whispering to me otherwise. And, by “devil”, I mean the teenage girl on Yahoo! Answers marked as “expert” telling me that vagina-slime means I’m going to die soon.

Thank the heavens above for laptops and cell phones with internet capabilities. It’d be a real bitch if I had to drag a PC around with me everywhere I go in order to conduct a Google search should there be an emergency situation. This all makes me wonder, how did women pre-internet days manage to successfully complete their pregnancies and birth a healthy baby? Its unfathomable. Even more, those same women had to do it without an epidural. *Shiver

Who knew it took balls to have a baby? You know, aside from those first few minutes that don’t actually count at all – no matter how crucial they may be in the conception process. Besides, I mean real balls… the kind that only women have.