Let's Over Do It!

I love long weekends when Boo is with her dad. That sentence makes me feel really guilty, but it's honest and a good preface for the rest of this post.

I am a night person. I loved working in the theatre. It loved the people and the work, but the hours were fantastic. I will happily stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning. I have to push it to make 5 or 6, so working 3rd shift never worked for me. Getting up before 9 is like torture for me, even if I go to bed at the stupid early time of midnight. Seriously, not a morning person. Being an English major is right up my alley. All the classes are in the afternoon and I can work in peace and quiet after the kid is in bed. It just makes getting her up and out the door a pain in the butt.

For the last two nights I have stayed up late and slept in. It has been glorious. I love being in my comfy bed with the sunlight streaming through the window. It's decadent, I tell you.

Bryn and I finally got our acts in gear at about 3 and went down to the garden and plotted and tilled and sowed. I made little cards for each type of crop and planted the beans and peas. Bryn helped me with the corn. I just couldn't bend over and do it myself. He had to pick me up off the ground when I had been working on the little signs. The baby feels really low and really heavy. It's hard to believe I still have about three months left...

Bryn decided we needed to go when I started getting woozy. I was a little unsteady on my feet, but I blamed the hills and trying not to mess them up. I had a terrible headache and had already drunk all the water we brought with us. I felt very sorry for Bryn; he had sweat dripping off his face and I'd had most of the water. Bryn brought me home, had me sit in the comfy chair, and brought me water while he made supper. I have a wonderful husband.

That reminds me: Every now and again I look at him and say, "We're married!" and he smiles and nods and hopes no one heard me. It is a little weird, but I'm just so happy to have him for my husband. Occasionally, it just wells up inside and I have to tell him how happy I am. But to the casual observer, it's probably pretty weird. Me and my big belly. He and I have been together for seven years and engaged for two. But we've only been married for three months. And I adore him. Seven years into this relationship and I am still blissfully happy most of the time. We have our moments, but they are few and far between (and mostly it's me being overly emotional - I blame the hormones). I can't imagine my life without him.

Speaking of over doing things and being emotional: Last weekend, Bryn went backpacking with his friends. I hated every minute he was gone. I hate being alone with Alex. I second guess everything I do with her. I am the sole caretaker when he isn't here and I get scared that something awful is going to happen. I can handle it on my own, but it's easier when we can talk to each other and lean on each other. Bryn leaves us alone and she gets a tummy ache, every time. The one thing I can't cope with. So of course, I'm up all night worrying about her tummy and hearing things that aren't there. Listening for her running to the bathroom. Listening for her not making it to the bathroom. And all I hear is the upstairs neighbor playing bocce ball in the living room.

So, I drove Bryn and a friend up to the trailhead last weekend and while driving up the mountain road, I hit a chipmunk. I freaked the hell out. I started crying so hard that I had to stop the car - in the middle of the road. Then I realized how stupid my crying was and started laughing hard enough that I still couldn't drive. And I waffled back and forth between crying and laughing until I finally calmed down. I drove about 20 feet and freaked out again, "What if it was a mommy and has babies in a nest?!?!" and had to slam on the brakes again. Eventually, I got them to the trailhead. I was still sobbing and Bryn's friend Ed practically dragged me out of the car and I wound up the center of a group hug. It was terribly embarrassing, but sweet.

Ed is a nice guy. He and his wife have three kids. Until recently, I only knew his wife pregnant or nursing. I told her that my Christmas present to her this year was that I was pregnant so she didn't have to be. She gave me the hugest hug I got over the holidays. All that said, Ed gets the pregnancy hormones better than most of the men I know. Bryn had no idea what to do with me, other than to let the giggle-tears run their course. Ed managed to nip it in the bud so I could get on with my day. Yes, it was embarrassing, but it was over... Until they headed up the trail and I started missing Bryn and started crying all over again.

Last weekend was pretty long. This weekend is long and will be much better. It has been better already. This weekend I slept in twice, ate Peruvian beef heart on a stick, had a Rookie rootbeer float, watched a fire juggler, ate outside twice, and if we include Friday afternoon, I had a milkshake and a strawberry ice cream cone. The garden is about a third of the way done and it's supposed to rain tomorrow so we can stay in and tidy-up. My mom is coming next weekend.

27 Weeks

I am now in my third trimester. I got an email from one of the parenting sites I joined telling me that the baby is now the size of a rutabaga. I could tell Bryn that the baby was about 14 inches long or 2 pounds, but when I told him about the rutabaga I actually got a half-hearted, "Cool."

Today I had my second WIC appointment. Iron is 12.4! My goal was 11, so I'm pretty proud of myself. I've gained an appropriate amount of weight. I met my WIC sponsored lactation peer counselor. I got to tell my peer and my worker (and the shadowing student dietitian) all about Alex's birth and nursing and the mastitis that turned into an abscess. I got information about birthing classes and a class for older siblings. My insurance will pay for the 10 hours of birth class, which is a huge load off my mind. All my knowledge is 7 years old and rusty and the $140 price tag was a little scary. Bryn thinks we can swing the sibling class.

I was bad today. I was downtown for the WIC appointment and there was some time before the bus so I stopped at the scoop shop... I had a caramel machiato. It's a milkshake with made with B&J caramel cup and coffee coffee buzz buzz ice cream. Not only did I have a milkshake for lunch - it had espresso beans in it. I bounced off the walls for a while. As I was coming down I got a mad craving for strawberry ice cream. So I got an ice cream cone.

I want bad things. With Alex I craved ceasar salads - genuine ceasar salads. Raw eggs and anchovies were the worst parts of the salad. Now I want burgers, beer, ice cream, gin and tonics, cookies, espresso drinks, iced tea, things swimming in melted butter...

I think the caffeine is well and truly wearing off now. I'm really tired.  I'll write again this weekend when I'm not so beat.

Being Mom

Alex was sick this afternoon. I hate that in ways that I cannot fully express. I hate that she doesn't feel well. I hate that she has so much practice at this that she throws up better than I do. I hate that it feels like instinct to be there when she does it. I hate the look on her face when I wipe it off. I hate that she asked for a bowl for next to her bed tonight. It makes me sick to my stomach.

Bryn has told me that my immune system is in hyperdrive because of the pregnancy. I'm not sure I believe him, but as I'm the Momma, I don't have much choice but to run with it. Momma is the comforting one. Papa is pretty good at cleaning up the mess, if there is a mess, but Momma is for cuddles and snuggles and reassurance... as much as I want to hide under the covers.

My discomfort with this tummy thing has me concerned about being a mom again. I'm having all the concerns I had when I was pregnant with Alex, but add in the difficulties that I had with Alex that I never expected.

Alex had jaundice. Alex would not be swaddled. Alex had a terrible latch. She was colicky. I had never heard of rotovirus until she was better. She didn't sleep through the night until she was three. We had to worry about bullies in daycare. There are all kinds of things that I thought I would never have to worry about again and now I'm pregnant. There is a little person doing flip-flops in my abdomen and I have to worry about him all over again.

Bryn says not to worry. This kid is half him and half me. We were calm kids, we were natural nursers and pretty healthy kids. I slept through the night in a matter of weeks. I should be calm and happy to meet the new person, but it's so scary. Starting all over with a new person. I was so excited a couple of weeks ago and now I'm scared. I guess I will come around again, but the guilt just feeds the fear. I think I know what I'm talking to my therapist about tomorrow...

Little Wiggler, Little Learner

I'm a graduate student. I am working towards my Masters degree in English, of all things. I spend most of my time sitting on my butt either reading or writing. I really need to get out more, and hopefully, I will once this semester is over.
There is something perverse about the relationship between the mother and the fetus. She is active and walking and driving and the developing person is lulled and quiet. The expectant mother is sitting quietly and trying to concentrate (or God-forbid, sleep) and suddenly there is an acrobatic routine underway in her midsection. Usually, the tickly, fluttery feeling makes me smile and rub my belly and I say sweet loving things. Usually. Lately, as the semester winds to a close and my stress levels rise, I've been more annoyed by the distraction than enthralled by it. It's hard to write a cohesive and concise sentence about race relations in the 1850's near the Ohio border when someone seems to have the hiccups right under your own rib cage. I need to finish my papers soon.

I went to meet with a professor yesterday. I wanted to speak with him about the baby. The due date is within a week of classes starting in the fall semester. I completely plan to be at the first class, but I will be wearing the infant. I figured that my professors deserve a heads-up that there will be an extra person in their classes. I also wanted to give fair warning about the fact that I will be nursing on demand. The professor was completely indisposed. He sent me an email apologizing for his insane schedule. I emailed him back. I think I was pretty cool about it:

"I am expecting my second child the week before classes begin. Since it is my second, no one expects that I will go much past my due date, so I fully plan on being in attendance for the first class. As the baby will be so young, I will be wearing him to class. As I do not want to be a disruption, I will arrive early to let classmates see the baby and warn them that I will be nursing occasionally. With the baby in the sling, I doubt anyone will actually notice. 

Once the baby is old enough to take a bottle I will be able to leave him at home, but for the first six to eight weeks, he will be my constant companion.

I hope you understand. 

If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know. We have a whole summer to work it out."

I also sent it to my other fall semester professor, with whom I have been unable to connect. The professor I feared more sent me a nice email wishing me luck, he saw no problems with my plan, and he looked forward to meeting both of us! The super busy professor hasn't emailed me back yet. 

I was really scared. I was so scared that I contacted the UVM Title IX coordinator, the UVM Office of Affirmative Action and Equal Opportunity, and the Vermont Human Rights Commission. UVM has all kinds of protections for nursing employees, but I could find nothing on the books for nursing students. There are lots of assumptions that since I'm a graduate student that I am also an employee. As nice as that would be, I'm not; the HR department has nothing to offer me. 

Bottom line was that I tell, don't ask, my professors that I will be nursing and if I run into flak I let the OAAEO know and they will see how they can help me and if that doesn't go anywhere, the VHRC contact I spoke with said that they would be on my side should I have to go to court against UVM. Having sent out the email to my professors, I feel like I may have overreacted, but I'm glad I did it. I like knowing where I stand. 

Once I get a reply from the very busy professor, and my seminar papers are submitted, I can spend the summer reading for comps and working on my thesis. Wait. I told Bryn I would nest. I'll do that too, but I really want to read for my comps. I'm so excited by my topic. 

Remind me that I need to find a sling. Alex hated being swaddled and in a sling. This kid is going to have to like the sling. I'll also need some nursing bras and tops. Oy. I keep forgetting how expensive this whole baby thing is...

Baby Registry and Shower Thoughts

A friend of mine asked me yesterday if I was registered anywhere. No, I'm not. I have a baby wishlist at Amazon. I have a few links here on the blog with neat baby item ideas (if anyone wants to spring for diaper service, I'll name my third child after you). I just... This isn't my first baby. I have some baby stuff. Registering feels like asking for presents. I don't do that. When asked what I wanted for Mother's Day, I asked to sleep in and have a nice breakfast. I'm not good at asking for stuff.

That said, I lost a lot of Alex's stuff in Tropical Storm Irene. My mother's basement flooded. I was mostly freaked out about my books, at the time. I wasn't pregnant and wasn't thinking that far ahead. Yes, we were trying, but I lost books my grandmother gave me. I had donated a lot of Alex's layettes to the Katrina relief efforts. I had maybe a handful of really cute, absolute favorites that I kept - the rest all went to NOLA in September of 2005. I lost that remaining handful in our flood.

I also fear and hope that I won't have a baby shower. Alex's father's family threw me a shower for Alex. It was very sweet, but my mother had no idea about it and felt left out. I would kind of like a shower, if only to have friends come and hug me, but no one wants to come to a shower empty handed and I don't want to ask for stuff, despite the fact that I do indeed need stuff. Bryn knows how I feel about the shower thing. He worries that no one would throw one for me and has offered to figure out how to throw one for me. I told him he was terribly sweet, cried all over him, and told him not to bother.

I'm not sure why, but I feel like baby showers are the sort of thing you do for the first baby. I feel the same way about bridal showers, even though I never had one the first time around. I know the etiquette about not mailing registry cards with wedding cards; it's tacky. I feel the same way about registries in general. But I still want stuff. I still need stuff.

I'm not sure what to do. For the time being, I'll just keep adding to the Amazon list, which has a link in this blog's sidebar and hoping for the best. ...yeah, I'm pretty damned passive.

Diapers, diapers, diapers...

I have a very sweet friend who just mailed the baby a HUGE box of baby clothes. There is a gallon zipperbag full of tiny socks. Lots of bitty booties, stacks of clothes Newborn through 12 months, hats (some with tags still), and diapers. Four different types of diapers. Lots of velcro and snaps.

Alex was in disposables. There was no diaper service and the washing machine was on its last legs. When I moved in with my mom there was no way I was switching to cloth. The idea of a diaper bucket in her house made me want to gag and she had horror stories about my bitty butt to share.

Apparently, there was a diaper service in the area when I was a baby. It was cheap, it made Mom feel good about her rustic lifestyle, and I was so allergic to the diapers that we were both in tears on a regular basis. She would put me in disposables to let me heal, so she could use creams and such on my bum, but when she would switch back the rash would come right back. So she gave up on cloth. We had the same conversation about IUDs a few years ago. She hated hers; I adored mine. I hope diapers go the same way.

Anyway, this box of baby goodies that arrived on my door-step had gDiapers, Litewraps, and Flips in them. I read about all of them. They each sound really great. Yay economy! Yay environment! What do you mean I swish poo in the toilet? And then I keep a bag of these wet things in my house? Dirty? At $1.25/wash at my local laundromat I go through about $40 worth of laundry a month as it is. That's not including detergent. Now I need to add about two additional loads a week and each load needs to go through the machine 3 times? That doesn't sound economical or environmentally friendly. I wash our clothes in cold water. Not only does it save energy, it's better for the clothes. The diapers have to be done in hot. The hot water demands more energy consumption and three cycles through for each load (2 per week x3 cycles each x4 weeks a month = 24 additional (just diaper) loads/month) is a lot of waste water. The sheer wear and tear on the machine was what kept me from cloth diapering Alex.

I did all this figuring when I was pregnant with Alex. Basically, it came down to what was better for our situation. Yes, I had my own washer, but it was 35 years old and we had a septic system and we paid for our hot water which was heated with oil. It was just as bad for the environment (carbon footprint-wise) as the disposables. I had no guilt. The only thing that would have made me switch was an environmentally friendly diaper service that used earth-friendly vehicles and machinery.

Viola! Smarty Pants! I'm kind of in love with their website. I've been "friends" with them on Facebook since before Bryn convinced me we needed a baby. Now I need to figure out if the diaper service is worth $15/week to me. It will cost me $10/week to do it myself; is it worth the extra $15 (total of $25/week) to have someone else deal with the diapers? Until the kid is on solids, the whole diaper goes in the pail - I don't have to do a thing. Once a week I put out the stinkies and they deliver folded perfectly ph-balanced and washed diapers. $100 per month - $40 I would do myself = $60 for not having to swish poo. I wish I had an income. Being broke makes this a hard choice.

I know me. I am lazy. I hate laundry day. I don't want to get lazy, but what if I do? What if I skimp on the cycles and the kid gets a rash? I'll switch to disposables until the rash is gone and then - will I go back to cloth? Remember, I'm lazy. Gah! There are people here in our little community who cloth diaper. I need to talk to them. I have also pre-registered for Cloth Diapers 101 towards the end of the month. I wish cloth diapering weren't a lifestyle choice. And don't tell me it isn't. Cloth mommies terrify me and I was an AP mommy who breast-fed on demand for 27 months.

I think the only thing that is really keeping me from just saying "Screw it!" and buying Pampers (which I found fit the Alex perfectly for the first 3 months) or Huggies (which fit best the rest of the time before she potty trained) is the endocrine disruptors. Don't call me crazy. I've read a lot of things about fertility issues and chemical burns and for some reason Good Guide, my usual savior when it comes to this kind of stuff, has no information health-wise for diapers. Seventh Generation diapers have their ingredients listed, and there is nothing bad in them. The Pampers Swaddlers, that I used on Alex, rank almost as high, but there is no list of ingredients. The major brands claim proprietorial privilege. Coke still has to list its ingredients and no one has gotten that right yet... 100+ years later.
Out of curiosity, I checked the new Huggies. The list of ingredients is a lot longer than Seventh Generation's and there is only one thing that raised a red flag, though tentatively. Not sure I feel much better, but at least if I back slide I know that it's the bleaching process that causes infertility and the absorbing agents that cause chemical burns - I keep getting those two mixed up. ...should I stop bleaching Hubby's under-roos?

If anyone has any ideas, insights, good jokes to snap me out of this - feel free to leave a comment.