Yesterday was a pretty good day. Today, not so much. I had to call in and schedule an appointment with the midwife for Tuesday (one week from my last appointment). I have been putting it off hoping that it was a phone call that I wouldn't have to make. As I sat on hold with the receptionist I fought back tears, but broke down and cried when I got the email confirmation that I have a 1:30pm visit on August 31st. AUGUST 31st. It's official. I'm never having this baby. He'll likely gestate for another few years and come out a moody teenager in desperate need of braces and a haircut.
So, just amuse yourself with photos of dinner. Again. That's all I have to show for my day, photos of a salad made with stuff from our CSA. For variety, I've switched up my beverage. Instead of water I'm enjoying a crisp black cherry soda. Oh, and our salad has beans in addition to corn and tomatoes. We are living on the edge here on Flanders Street.
Actually, all hope is not lost. We're heading out soon to see what may be our last Timbers game for the season. I'm going to round out my healthy first course of salad with a giant PGE Park hot dog smothered in ketchup and mustard. I managed to eek out a smile while J practiced using our camera. Sadly, my Timbers colored t-shirt no longer fits, so I'll have to overcompensate with extra enthusiasm tonight.
The fetal monitoring appointment went well yesterday. Baby G vigorously kicked and rolled through the 20-minute session, as if to punctuate the fact that he's never coming out. I closed my eyes and imagined a tiny middle finger directed at all of us out here who are anxiously awaiting his appearance. The baby's amniotic fluid levels are just fine too, in fact, he kept sticking his foot in one of the pockets, so that it couldn't really be fully measured and the total still came out high. I'm scheduled to go in again on Friday for another monitoring session -- an appointment I hope I will not have to keep.
In the mean time, we're both trying to keep busy in order to take our minds off the anticipation. The Timbers have a home game tomorrow night and I fully intend to waddle my pregnant butt over there and cheer with the best of them. We're going to try a little reverse psychology. If I pretend the baby doesn't exist, then maybe he'll seek out my attention on the outside! I don't care if my water breaks at PGE Park and we have to head directly to the hospital, Timbers scarf in hand. I am tired of waiting. So I might as well have some fun.
Yesterday I passed the 41 week mark -- a milestone that I was convinced I would not reach last Thursday at my centering group appointment. So, I'm scheduled to go in today for an appointment with the midwife at 2pm to check in and develop a game plan for the next week. I also have a non stress test at 3pm to monitor my contractions and the baby's heart rate to make sure that he's handling them well. The midwives assured me that there is only a very small fraction of babies who scare/annoy the crap out of their parents by going post-term (42 weeks). I would expect no less from our child.
I think an ultrasound is also on the agenda today to make sure that my amniotic fluid is sufficient to let him continue to hang out for a few more days. I keep checking out this photo on our refrigerator reminding myself that he'll come along when he's ready (and not a minute sooner), but it's pretty hard to be patient! J and I are actually looking forward to the appointments this afternoon. Since I can't have the satisfaction of holding him in my arms, I can at least see him pummel my organs on a high definition screen. Maybe I'll bring along some popcorn and we'll make it a date night.
Clearly this baby is stubborn like his mother and does not react well to ultimatums. Poking at his rogue feet while repeating "get out, get out get, out or else" is not working. Tomorrow he will be officially a week past his due date and I am going to have to start practicing some tough love if he doesn't decide to get things moving.
It's not like we haven't tried to be nice about it. We've whispered encouraging words, J's been singing little tunes, and I've been eating awesome foods to try and coax him out. What? Those two ice cream bars and pile of cookies were totally for the baby. Yesterday I satisfied a major craving for a hearty Italian meal by making a giant batch of spaghetti sauce (with beef of course). We paired it with sauteed summer squash from our CSA. It hit the food craving spot so hard that we replicated the entire meal again for dinner tonight. What's not to love?
In an attempt to get out of the house so I wouldn't go mad, we grabbed bagels for lunch up on Lovejoy, then walked down to Powell's in the Pearl to check out some children's books, and then strolled back home again. I even did a short sprint when I saw this guy driving down 10th Avenue. I jumped off the bench where we were resting and started running after the sort of creepy minivan yelling at J to "run to see the guy with the monkey!" J did not move fast enough in my opinion, so I yelled louder "the guy with the monkey" while pointing furiously in the van's direction. Luckily, the creepy clown caught a stoplight and J was able to witness the dude who drives around Portland holding a puppet while lip syncing to the radio. It was a pretty awesome afternoon.
J made his best batch of stir-fried beef on Wednesday night. It was marinated and cooked to perfection. I know it seems like I eat an alarming amount of red meat these days, but don't worry, I mix it up with an even more alarming amount of beans. If I don't get a giant amount of protein for breakfast and dinner then my energy is zapped by a little dude who refuses to make his appearance in this world. As a result, I've upped my morning cottage cheese intake to half a container (up from 1/3), which clocks me in at about 3 1/2 pounds of cottage cheese a week. Since my hunger has me waking up at 5am every morning, I've had to incorporate a second breakfast of eggs and toast around 9am. After letting that settle, I'm ready for my two-hour 10am nap. If someone looked at a chart of my daily activity, they'd come to the conclusion that I probably live in an old folks home.
Anyway, back to dinner. Alongside the beef we had a fresh corn and tomato salad with red onion and parsley -- all ingredients from our CSA. We also enjoyed roasted fingerling potatoes (from the CSA). It felt so good to be in a cool kitchen again after that insanely hot weather. I have to say, I have no complaints about Portland's unseasonably cool weather lately. Some people feel robbed of summer, I feel pretty lucky to sleep almost through the night because of the crisp air coming in through the window.
As for the baby, he's still basking in the 98.6ยบ summer vacation that will hopefully soon come to an end. I went to my last centering group meeting yesterday and everything looks just fine, but I'm scheduled for fetal monitoring on Tuesday if I don't deliver before then. It's not a big deal, just checking in to track Baby G's movement and see how his amniotic fluid levels are doing. If he's tolerating life inside fairly well, I'll be allowed to stick it out until 42 weeks (August 30th). At that point we'll have to start making plans of nudging him along. Luckily, the midwife assured me that they almost never have to use Pitocin to induce labor, which puts my mind more at ease.
Well, the bags are mostly packed. All we have to do is throw in our cell phones, laptop, chargers, and last minute toiletries, which are all noted on my handy checklist. I tried to keep the checklist to a minimum, opting not to rely on the internet guides that would require us to mount a luggage carrier on the roof of our Mazda to cart all of the "essentials". I swear, you'd think that some of these women were planning for the apocalypse and packing to go off the grid for a few years. One blogger even suggested that I bring along a package of note cards to stay up-to-date on thank-you's for baby gifts. I can just picture it, "J, for the love of god, please stop talking about my breathing. I need to get this thank-you note finished before I transition."
Basically, we have a change of clothes for me, J and Baby G, a few snacks, and a some toiletries as suggested by the hospital. In the spirit of full disclosure, I am including my hairdryer and make-up bag in the basic items category. Don't judge. If I'm going to potentially work harder than I ever have in my life and have photos for posterity to prove it, then dammit I want to look cute the next day. You know who else will look cute? The baby. We're bringing along two outfits for his debut, one for the hot sweltering weather we've had for the past few days and one for the cold, rainy weather that is predicted for the next week. They're insanely tiny and Jesse refuses to believe that he was that small at one time.
Officially 40 weeks today. Don't get excited Mom(s). No action on the Baby G birthing front (but it's not for lack of trying to get this party started). We solidified plans. We walked and walked. I even ate some spicy food, but not a twinge.
This weekend was actually a lot of fun, so I'm glad the baby decided to stick around and not come early. Friday evening we had the tournament game for our kickball league. J had firmly been placed on the "maybe" list given it's close proximity to my due date. I think everyone was happy to have him on the team for the final game, but a little sad when they saw me waddling down the field from the parking lot. We lost the game, but ended up winners in the end because our opponents had to drag themselves out of bed for an early morning Saturday showdown. Afterward, we all headed over to Mississippi Avenue for a bar crawl to celebrate our good friend's birthday -- Baby G even got in on the party action. We didn't go to bed until after midnight and it felt great.
Saturday and Sunday were lazy days. The temperatures in Portland hovered in the mid-90s all afternoon, so we were inclined to do nothing more than lounge in front of the fan, catch up on a few television shows, and finish books that remained half read. We also practiced lots of relaxation and breathing and some labor/birthing positions. J scheduled a concert last night for a band that he really really wanted to see, so we were betting that would certainly prompt the baby to make his arrival (clearly, it did not). However, we got to play a cool new game all evening with our friends Dan, Joanie & Ashley, so it all worked out in the end.
Today is supposed to be just as hot, but the heat wave is expected to break tomorrow with a high only in the mid-80s. I think if the baby can hold off for one more day, laboring at home for a while will be a lot more comfortable!
Look! The towel rack almost disappears from the enormity of my belly! That news is about as interesting as it will get until the baby decides to make his appearance. Most of my days now revolve around spurts of light activity followed by long rests on the couch. The one major thing that needs to happen is packing that pesky hospital bag. Oh, and me teaching J how to use the digital camera so he's not fumbling around trying to turn it on when it's time.
J and I have been practicing relaxation techniques this week in preparation for labor and I have to say they work pretty well. I find myself rehearsing by relaxing various parts of my body during the day when I'm bored or stressed. For example, yesterday while waddling over to the photocopier at work, I realized that I have really been holding in my abdominal muscles while walking. That's probably a good thing, otherwise it feels like the baby might just sag to my knees. However, one of the main things that I read over and over is to not fight labor, it will only make it worse. Total muscle relaxation is key. So, as I picked up the stack of papers from the photocopier, I really relaxed my belly. Woah! Hello cranium on my bladder! I quickly tightened up (what's left) of my abs and went about my day. While brushing my teeth last night, I decided to try letting go of the belly again to the same effect. The Baby G started punching me and I had a pretty giant contraction. I'm thinking this relaxation stuff just might work.
Today is my last day at the office and I'm only planning to spend a couple of hours to tie up some loose ends. I will then drive myself home, waddle upstairs and put on my lounge clothes. For the rest of the day, I plan on letting my belly hang loose and maybe gravity will help things along.
I had another centering group appointment with the midwife yesterday. We found out that one of our group members had her baby this past weekend, a week or so early, which turned a lot of our thoughts to the big day. There are four of us that are clustered around the same due date (August 15-17th), which led to many last minute questions about the hospital stay. Up until this point, we've focused mainly on pregnancy issues and managing labor and birth, but yesterday was mostly focused on postpartum care and newborn procedures at the hospital. We also all waddled up to the 12th floor of the hospital to take a peek at one of the empty rooms on the maternity ward. I feel pretty much at ease, knowing that we have chosen a pretty great group of midwives who are in line with a lot of the wishes that I have for labor, delivery, and treatment of Baby G in the minutes and hours after birth.
As for the baby, he is still very active and according to the midwife, "is hanging out very low". What does that mean? Nothing. Some babies drop weeks before delivery just to torment their mother's aching bladders. However, we did have to wait for a minute or so before she could find his giant butt (that smashes my right lung most days), because I was having a pretty long and strong contraction. The contractions still aren't uncomfortable, but are noticeably more frequent and longer in duration. So, it's just a really agonizing waiting game for us and the baby. He fidgets, stretches, and rolls off and on all day, making my belly a lopsided freak show. His most dramatic movements resemble a golf ball rolling from my hip to my ribs over and over again. I like to imagine him suited up in a little striped jumpsuit dragging a tin cup over the prison bars of my womb (my ribs).
Only 10 more days (give or take 10). I am so ready!
As my pregnancy has progressed over the past month, I feel like I have regressed at the dinner table. I keep having flashbacks of my first trimester woes and have become a pretty particular eater. My stomach is squished, so I can't eat very much at one sitting, which means I'm constantly low on energy. This leads to a somewhat constant nauseous feeling (either from eating too much or eating too little). Not only am I particular, but my cravings and dislikes have become wildly erratic -- last week I loved hard boiled egg sandwiches with cucumbers, cheese, and mustard, but now they equal death. Ugh, thinking about it right now makes me sick.
A few things haven't changed though, including my love for all things dairy. I still eat pounds of cottage cheese a week and send J to Trader Joe's every other day to replenish our milk supply. Oh, and red meat = euphoria. If I allowed myself to survive alone in the kitchen, I'd gladly crack out on a cut of beef or sausage and little else for dinner. It's like my body knows that meals are going to be meager, so it might as well make the most of what will little food will fit.
Luckily, I have J around as the voice of reason (coupled with the bounty from our CSA), so I do eat a fair share of vegetables. However, I think he felt bad about the last few meals that we cooked together because they left me less than satisfied. So, last night he encouraged me to design a menu that would make me blissfully happy. And this, folks, was my heavenly menu: marinated beef, potato salad, and as much watermelon as I could fit in my belly. I was pretty excited that the potato salad was made almost entirely from items from our CSA, including three kinds of potatoes, the spring onions, and eggs. I hear that watermelon is supposed to help with swelling. I can use all the assistance I can get in that department, since my feet look like little ham steaks at the end of the day. Oh pregnancy! You are such a joyous and venomous beast. Only two more weeks until my due date!
J and I spent a large part of Saturday organizing. Again. From the amount of organizing that we've been doing lately, you probably think we live in a total disaster area. Recent guests will likely attest to the fact that we are not living in squalor (but they probably never peaked in our closets). I finally assembled the crib, washed, folded, and sorted the remaining baby clothes, and got down to making a checklist for our hospital bag. The only major outstanding issue is the car seat, which J and I will attempt to install this afternoon. I have to say, we are both pretty pleased with how the guest/baby room is shaping up. Of course we haven't hung any photos yet, so the walls are still bare, but all the essentials are in place -- the daybed for soon-to-be visiting grandparents, the crib for Baby G when he's finally ready to sleep in his own room, and a rocking chair for late night feedings and soothing. The day bed quilt, bed skirt, and roman shade were made by my Mom in her month-long sweatshop extravaganza.
While J was excited to see how the crib looked in the room, I think he was mostly stoked to hang the mobile that we purchased a few weeks ago from a local artist -- naturally, the mobile is "for the baby". J also adorned the crib with a few items to make it not look so lonely in the days leading up to Baby G's big debut -- a teddy bear from our close family friends, a Portland Timbers scarf from friends here in Portland, and of course, a mini soccer ball. We still have a few issues to work out in the room, but thanks to the magic of cropping and selective photography, you can't see the ugly Ikea shelf that I'd like to hide and the menagerie of cords from our internet router, wifi base station, and cordless telephone. Remedying those problems requires a bit more furniture shifting and some inventive maneuvering that we'll tackle this afternoon as well.
Overall, the apartment is now as ready as we are for the baby to finally arrive!
Yesterday was a pretty good day. Today, not so much. I had to call in and schedule an appointment with the midwife for Tuesday (one week from my last appointment). I have been putting it off hoping that it was a phone call that I wouldn't have to make. As I sat on hold with the receptionist I fought back tears, but broke down and cried when I got the email confirmation that I have a 1:30pm visit on August 31st. AUGUST 31st. It's official. I'm never having this baby. He'll likely gestate for another few years and come out a moody teenager in desperate need of braces and a haircut.
