Here's To Silly!

So, I have all kinds of plans to document my foray into motherhood, with deep thoughts and insights right alongside funny stories.  Turns out, blogging hasn't been a priority.  Meh.  Still, I have just a few short tidbits for today. 

Nursing.  I'm a big fan.  Hooray for breastmilk and all its goodness.  However, as I told Wonderman tonight, it's beginning to feel like every day has a different funny/humiliating story related to nursing.  When my friend told me that I was entering the stage of bodily fluids, I had no idea how real that was.  Yesterday I was so pleased with myself.  I topped last week's big nursing accomplishment (I nursed in public [a hidden corner in the back of a Kohl's store] without a nursing cover, and was totally modest yet unashamed) by nursing in public (this time with the cover) while walking around Costco.  That may not sound like a big deal to those of you who have mastered the sling and the nursing that can accompany it.  I, however, simply held Bean in just the right position for almost a half an hour while we shopped because my sling experiences thus far have been far from successful.  My arm, shoulder, and elbow were sore as I buckled Bean into her carseat, but I was so content with my accomplishment.  That is until I looked down and saw that my entire other side (you know, the side that she wasn't nursing on) was quite literally soaked.  Sigh.  I still have so much to learn.

On another hippie note - Today marks one full week of nothing but cloth diapers.  There is much to say regarding, however today I will simply celebrate.  You may infer that I did, in fact, use some disposable diapers.  Alas, for all my big plans and ideals, I did.  I think that all is well and figured out and we are on our way.  Thank goodness, since we leave the country soon and I don't want all my baggage (and budget) to go to support a diaper habit.

The end.  For tonight.

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So, my doula really was magic!  Bean came, and without my amazing doula it would have been a much more difficult experience.  More on that later.  Probably.  For now, here's the obligatory baby picture:

Bean is more fun and more challenging than I could have ever imagined.  I've learned so much already and I somehow imagined I'd be blogging about my journey into motherhood.  However, I spend my days focusing on feeding Bean and sometimes me and doing my best to see that we both get enough sleep.  That pretty much takes what I've got (I already worry about what I'll do when it's time for Bean's sequel.  Sigh).  We'll see if I write more as her night sleeps continue to lengthen (Don't laugh.  It could happen.  Wait, are you laughing at the thought of me blogging more or her sleeping more?  Seriously, both are legitimately possible.  I swear [but a little less now that there's a little one around.  you never know when they start to pick up on things]!)

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As I am approaching my birth experience, my blog will probably begin to revolve more and more around my crazy hippie ideas and philosophies.  I have a lot to say as I have spent much time pondering and studying (in fact, Wonderman has multiple times expressed bewilderment at how much thought I have put into this process, as he can't imagine doing so himself.  I told him that is why I am having the baby and not him).  We've talked a lot about doulas.  I have a lot to say on the subject, and I haven't even hired a doula yet (let's all pray that I have time to find a great match in between my rush home and Bean's rush appearance).  I only wish I had seen this post (I have to confess, it's a link from another blog I read, but I don't remember which one.  I just open links that seem interesting and then have a bunch of tabs open and sometimes have no idea why when I get around to looking at them) earlier, as I think it may have convinced Wonderman a little sooner about the benefits of having a doula.  She describes my thoughts quite succinctly, although I do not think that Wonderman is a lame tard.

Conclusion:  Who wouldn't want a doula?  It seems crazy to do this without one.  And I may be crazy, but not like that.

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Last night I had an interesting experience.  A friend of mine told me that I look really cute pregnant, followed with the clarification: "I know you never feel cute pregnant, but you really look cute pregnant."  I smiled and said thank you, as my mommy trained me to do.  Still, it kind of took me aback.  I realized that even though I often feel that I am in extreme discomfort with the heat and humidity and crazy shooting muscle pains and general fatigue, I don't feel that different than I did before.  Sometimes I still get surprised when I look in the mirror, because I look exactly the same - only with a HUGE belly.  It's like I haven't changed at all and this whole pregnancy thing is all a figment of my imagination.  Anyway . . . back to the cute thing.  I didn't like being told how I felt.  I actually still feel cute.  Call me crazy.  Acknowledge that I have a way over-developed sense of vanity.  Whatever.  I almost always feel generally cute.  I also assume that most people can tell that I'm cute (ok, "cute" may not be the word choice I would generally go for.  I'd probably choose something like "wildly attractive," but that's just my sense of hyperbole coming into play again).  I figure being pregnant is kind of like being bald: 
 I still felt cute (mostly).  I was definitely glad to not be bald anymore when that stage passed, but the lack of hair didn't detract from my cuteness.  Being pregnant, I am fully looking forward to wearing real clothes again and being able to slip through a crowded room without bumping people, completely unaware of the actual size of my bod.  Still, I'm cute.  And you can't take that away from me.  I'm not sure if that's weird, annoying, or good.  Hopefully I can successfully transfer that to the rest of my life, just like Amy is in the process of doing.  Although, sometimes my lack of caring what other people think about me has actually caused more problems than it has solved.  Meh.  I'm sure I'll find the balance somewhere.  Or not.  Who needs balance, when you're cute like me?  Exactly.

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My last visit to the doctor was quite empowering.  I said "no" to something routine.  And I'm fine.  So is Bean. 

So, I read a lot of what I call (especially in conversations with Wonderman) my "crazy hippie blogs."  Lately most of these have to do with childbirth or child-rearing.  There is a lot of talk about empowering women to take back the choices regarding their pregnancies and births.  Discussions range from the mild to the extreme - from how to have a conscientious hospital birth to the at-home, unassisted birth.  The common thread seems to be essentially like proselyting  to let women know that they are in charge of what happens to them and they can choose what care to seek or accept.  So much of my experience has been hypothetical, as the doctor I've been seeing for seven months is not the doctor that will be around when Bean is born.  I have all kinds of things to ask my US doc and all kinds of ideas about how my natural hospital birth will be, but none of it seemed particularly relevant just yet.  I just go in monthly, pee in a cup, stand on a scale, and tell the doc I feel fine.

However, about three weeks ago was the time I was supposed to have the glucose tolerance test done.  I didn't want it done here, mostly because I have had BAD experiences with the nurses here drawing my blood.  I really didn't think about it past that.  I was planning on going back to Utah, so I told Dr. Dominica that I would do it there.  Then I stayed.  It didn't come up in conversation for a while and I "forgot" about it.  Then this week, Dr. Dominica got a worried look and said "You were supposed to do that at 28 weeks.  I'm going to call and see if you can still do it."  I inwardly rolled my eyes.  I knew it was on the list of "optional" tests (at least according to the crazy hippies).  I didn't have any concerns or reasons to be concerned.  I didn't want to do it.  Dr. D. came back with a relieved look.  "You can still do it."  Like a three-year-old I said, "But why?"  She tried to explain that it would determine if I had gestational diabetes (duh) and that it was just part of the prenatal testing that was done.  "But what would happen if we found out I had gestational diabetes?"  She explained that I would be put on insulin and marked as high-risk.  Since I'm fine and I feel fine and I definitely want to avoid any unnecessary risk labels, I said "I don't think I want to do it."  Dr. D. was great and didn't try to convince me of anything.  She just smiled and said it was my choice.  Then she told me that if I had done it, I would have had to take the one hour (each way) bus ride to Roseau and spend a couple hours at the lab, because it wasn't a test they could do here.  For that reason alone I was glad I said no. 

It was a small thing.  I really am glad to avoid the blood draws, the gross orange drink, and the travel time, but it wouldn't have been a big deal to do it.  I am confident it would've come back negative.  Still, I felt elated to recognize that I had been able to be in touch enough with my body, my baby, and my Heavenly Father to make a wise decision for us even if it didn't go along with the generally accepted norm.  I also think this was an important step in helping me realize the power I have to make decisions for what is best for me and for Bean.  As long as I can remain in tune, we're gonna be all right.  And I may be a crazy hippie yet.

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We are now entering the third trimester (you have to know, that as I typed that, I heard "Twilight Zone" in my head.  I know they're not really connected, but sometimes this whole thing seems so strange that it sort of fits.  But maybe just in my head).

The belly at 29+ weeks:


And me giving Bean a little hug:


And as much fun as I've had playing around with Picnik, I had to leave this one un-edited.  I can't explain the face.  Please don't ask.


Is it inappropriate to say that the three balls in that photo (two boobs and a belly) kind of look like a Simpsons character or something to me?  Or maybe a muppet.  Try it, it's not that hard to picture a silly face on there.  I probably need to design a t-shirt that does just that.  It would be awesome.

Added bonus photo, with a quiz question.  Can you guess which side of the bed is mine and which one is Wonderman's?


Conclusion:  Pregnancy is definitely changing things, but it is a delight despite the discomfort.  Still, I can't wait for two things (listed very much in order of importance): to meet Bean already and to sleep on my stomach again.

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I know, I know.  I should post photos of my belly.  Maybe even write some stuff.  And I probably will soon.  But until then, I just want to share my new favorite website with you.  Of all the things that I enjoy and that make me smile as I peruse my Google Reader every day, only one makes me literally Laugh Out Loud just about every time there's a new entry.  And these days my belly laughs are more impactful than ever, me having so much more belly and all.

http://criggo.com/

Go there.  Read it.  Laugh out loud.  And remember their motto:  "Newspapers are going away. That's too bad."

And I'll write more soon.  Promise.  Probably. Soon is relative.  The end.

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