the slightly cavalier* pregnant woman

Things I ought not do, but somehow manage to do anyway:

- Run down sets of stairs. (Kevin, "you trip over the flat ground; just imagine what you could do on stairs.")
- Carry flats of 30-count half-liters of water.
- Actually, carry a wide range of items, including dozens of books in a single bound, and an entire week's worth of groceries from our car to the house. (I should note that this is less common, though - KJ's really stepped up in this department.)
- Sleep on my back.
- Go camping.

Yes, we have another camping trip lined up for the start of the week, this time to Big Sur. I'm bringing about a dozen pillows to place strategically under potential pressure points, but I'm kind of curious how it will all play out in my mummy sleeping bag. During our last trip to Point Reyes I discovered that the bag zipped up...but with little room to spare.

At least we'll be in a gigantic new tent - 7 feet by 10 feet! That's 70 square feet of space!

* In looking up how to spell "cavalier," I realized it doesn't really mean what I thought it means. However, I'm sticking with it, since I like its sound.

t minus 2 weeks?

A real conversation, at our meeting for faith formation tonight:

Kevin: Let's schedule a meeting for next week.
Erika: Well, we can wait a week, right?
Amy: (Said in joking manner) I might have a baby by then.

Then, the really shocking realization: BDR's almost done. In two to three weeks, she'll be full term.

Oh, man.

Back to practicing my parenting skills on Madeline.

Important lesson #1 Madeline has taught us: Don't close the stroller on the baby. Someone was caught doing just this yesterday...

BDR - a boy?

Almost since Day 1 of the pregnancy, KJ and I have been on the same page: BDR's a girl. Thus, the constant referring to "she" and "her" and "(top-secret name)."

Seriously, if I'd given birth in January or February, and the doctor said, "it's a boy," my first response would have been, "Really? Can you double check?"

Or, for example, take our recent discussion with our family practitioner about circumcision. It's fair to say that we never considered the topic because it never occurred to us that BDR would be XY.

But now?

We're both swinging toward a 50-50 position. It's cool, since it's something that has happened independently. A few weeks ago, Kevin confessed he thought it could be a boy, and I concurred. The last time we had such a similar independent convergence was when we decided on the girl's name - a late entry from left field that obliterated the competition.

Anyway, we had a doctor's appointment yesterday, in which we confirmed:
- BDR's still not in breech position;
- BDR's still jammed up in my right ribcage;
- BDR's heart still is beating;
- and Kevin will need to get a flu shot in October.

I think it might be fair to say that it was the last item which made the strongest impression on KJ.

BDR's room, Stage 2

(Stage 1 was the entirely unexciting move of all office/dining furniture from BDR's room to the living space.)

Since rain threw a wrench in our plans to visit the Redwoods this weekend, we got crackin' on BDR's home.

We still have a lot of work to do, but in case you're curious what it looks like to have a baby in a small, 1-bedroom condo, take a look:

This is/will be BDR's room, although right now it's just a depository for chairs.

Please note:
1. Kevin's giant-sized Homer Pez dispenser, which I have promised will be in BDR's room.
2. Kevin's 2005 UNC National Championship pennant, which I also have promised will be in BDR's room.
3. A whole lot of junk that I can't really figure out a place for, on shelves that we're hoping will be filled to the brim by the Diaper Fairy.
4. An actual piece of baby accoutrement: a changing table. (We've yet to get the pad, though.)
5. Ugly, ugly, ugly light fixture that we used to bang our head on every day until we figured out how to use binder rings to raise it two feet. Behind it? The talking Simpsons' clock, which - you've guessed it! - I have promised will be in BDR's room. (Kevin's hoping BDR's first words are "Mmm. Sixty-four slices of American cheese."
6. Blinds, but future home to curtains I sewed together this weekend.
7. Our stroller/car seat, which has a really frighteningly strong petrochemical smell. I'm kind of hesitant to keep it in the house, let alone put a newborn in it.
8. And, the piece de resistance, the pile of plastic bags we've been stockpiling for diaper duty.

In time, the crib will join it's friends the Chair Family and Mr. Changing Table in BDR's room. Until then, though, it will take up space in our bedroom, like so:


Hmm. It's a tight squeeze, for sure. What you can't really tell from this photo is that my nightstand actually sticks out about two feet from the wall, right in my line-of-fire for late-night bathroom runs. It's possible I'll break an ankle on it.

The good news is we have everything in its own place. I'm not really sure how we managed to take 700 square feet and jam so much crap into it. Well, actually, I have an idea: take a look at the position of our dresser:


I suspect we've maxed out all potential wall space.

And, this photo doesn't even capture the fact that the lightswitch actually is covered up by a stereo.

BDR wish list

Since so many of you have asked what you could get for BDR upon her (or his) arrival, we've decided to post a little wish-list.

We have the major things we need (cribs, car seat), but there certainly are many other things that babies seem to require. For example (click light blue text for links):

Miscellaneous:
Our Babies 'R' Us Registry
** it's a lot easier to search under "Kevin Ross" than "Amy Davis"!

Clothes:
BDR's set for her first three months, so anything larger is nice!
Baby pants (American Apparel Karate Pants)
(sizes 3-6 months or larger!)
Baby hats (American Apparel Cotton Hat)
Baby T-shirts (American Apparel Short-Sleeve Lap T)
(sizes 3-6 months or larger!)

Le Toilette
DIAPERS.

Baby Activities
Hiking backpack (REI Piggyback Child Carrier)

I. Am. Over. Being. Pregnant.

Why?

The novelty is gone. Yeah, it was cute when BDR started moving around and kicking and stuff. Now, though, when she moves it's more likely than not to kind of hurt a lot, especially now that her little bottom's buried up in my ribcage.

Sudden lack of ability to breath. There's the fetal-induced crushing of my lungs, and also this delightful chest cold KJ brought home with him. It's amazing: I spend hours upon hours with little kids who are dripping in funky green snot and coughing without covering their mouths, and Kevin's the one who brings all sickness into our house. What's wrong with those Stanford students?

Location of stomach and liver on breastbone. Result: indigestion and pain.

Exhaustion. Which would be OK, if I weren't in such denial about it.

Ininterestedness in food of most kinds, including ice cream. In part due to indigestion and exhaustion, but also because, really, where's it going to go? My stomach's so jammed up, it's probably the size of a pea.

Inability to carry stuff. I checked out dozen books at the library and was unable to carry them to my car. I had to sit down and catch my breath. I felt really defeated.

The problem is, I've suddenly become more pregnant. I didn't realize it happened so quickly, but on Tuesday Kevin took a look at me and said, "man, you're a lot more pregnant today." And he was right.

Before this week, people would ask, "when's the baby due?" and I'd say, "early May," and they'd say, "wow, you don't look that pregnant.


This week, when people ask, their reply is, "really? You look like you're going to burst!"

Then, I think of all of the stuff we haven't exactly done for BDR yet, like set up the crib or buy a car seat.

Then, I work on knitting a superfluous cardigan for her.

BDR is NOT in breech position...yet

BDR, 32 weeks...almost done!

We had an appointment this morning with Dr. Shin, our OB-GYN. Everything has been going so well that I kind of feel like we're a boring case for the doctors. Well, a good boring. I really have had very few side effects with pregnancy (other than the increasing discomfort with toting around BDR and her habitat), very few Braxton-Hicks contractions, and no complications.*

And, we're cleared for camping this weekend. Although...we didn't really ask about backpacking. Dr. Shin just reminded me to drink lots of water and to put on sunscreen.

The good news is that (at least for right now) BDR is NOT in breech position, as I have dreamt about for the past two weeks or so. This is a relief, as we covered C-sections in our last birth class, and neither Kevin nor I were able to stomach the pulling-apart-your-abdominal-muscles part. Ug.

BDR still likes the right side, though, and particularly likes to wedge her little feet under my ribs. She's also starting to bulge out in weird ways. Kevin's new term of endearment? Lumpy.

*Actually, you may recall that BDR has a bum kidney. We'll have it looked at in a couple of weeks to see just how bum it is.

it *would* be cool if I were having a wolverine...

Seriously, you can't make this stuff up. All so-true-they're-kind-of-scary comments are from second graders:

Second Grader #1: Are you having a girl or a boy baby?
Me: I don't know. It's a surprise!
Second Grader #2: But it is a baby, right?
Second Grader #1: Not an animal or something?
Me: Yeah. It's a baby. Human baby.

Second Grader #3: Is the baby a year old yet?
Me: I'm sorry?
Second Grader #3: How old is the baby? Is she a year old yet?
Me: Oh, God no. Just seven months.

I also was advised by two little boys, one of whom was dripping in blood from a non-injury related bloody nose, that I needed to be "taking better care of myself and that baby."

BDR has taken to wedging herself firmly under my right ribcage. I've tried to explain to her that there is a lot of other room in that ever-expanding uterus of mine, but she seems somewhat recalcitrant. (Well, I assume she's recalcitrant. She could be afraid to try out new spaces. Or, she could be stuck.)

The result of BDR's current favorite hiding spot is that I feel as though my ribs are cracking from the inside out, as they are expanding to accomidate her growing girth. It is exactly as pleasant as it sounds.

Another side effect of BDR's growth trajectory is the fact that several of my essential organs (think: stomach, esophogus, liver) are now jammed up in a small area just under my breastbone, and are kind of bulging out. I'm pretty sure I can feel my esophugus when I touch that area between my two sets of ribs, which is exactly as creepy as it sounds.

Ug. I really can't think of it.

birth class, day 4 (now with more rantiness)

I want to preface this post by saying that we in no way were hoping to make friends in our birth class. If it happened, that would be cool, but really, we just wanted to know how to pop BDR out when the time was right. (That's not entirely true; mostly, we wanted to know when the time was right to pop out BDR as to avoid delivering her on the side of the highway.)

Last night, we began talking about pain medications during the birthing process. We were given a chart (Clarifying Your Feelings About Pain and Medications in Childbirth), and told to place ourselves on the +10 to -10 point scale.

Click on image to view larger size.

The chart actually is pretty hilarious, as +10 means "I want to be numb and receive anesthesia before labor begins," and -10 means "I do not want medications, even for a cesarean delivery." The chart helpfully points out that these are "impossible extremes."

Anyway, I selected -5: "I really don't want to use pain medications so that I can avoid the side effects to my baby, my labor, and myself. I will accept them, though, if labor is complicated or very long." It summed up my attitude pretty much exactly, in that I would prefer to not use pain medication, but if I'm looking at 36 hours of labor, it might be nice to take a nap.

Kevin, for his own reasons (mostly because I'd already selected -5), opted for -7: "I really want to have a natural birth for personal gratification along with the benefits to my baby and my labor. I will be disappointed if I use pain medications."

I was honestly surprised when we were the lowest on the scale. I had imagined that someone else would select a -5; I had no idea that many women were up at +7: "I want anesthesia as early in labor as my healthcare professional will allow, preferably before labor becomes painful."

Really, if that's your attitude, it's not clear to me why you're taking a birthing class. Why not just schedule a c-section and get it over with?

Anyway, on our drive home, Kevin and I had the following conversation:

Kevin: I don't think the teacher hates us any longer.*
Amy: Really?
Kevin: Yeah, I think she liked the questions we asked.
Amy: That's good.
Kevin: Do you ever get the sense that the rest of the birth class hates us?
Amy: Hmm. I don't think they care enough to hate. I think they just don't know what to make of us.
Kevin: Yeah, I guess.
*Up until yesterday's class, we both really believed the birthing teacher hated us, despite my employ of every suck-up-to-the-instructor technique I know, including furious head nodding and keeping off-topic questions to myself.

Often, Kevin and I wonder what it would have been like to take a birth class back in Chapel Hill/Carrboro rather than in Palo Alto. We both suspect it would be...if not "better," then at least more "our speed."

It turns out our birth class is very representative of the overall demographic of this area. That is: it's YuppieTown. I mean seriously, hard-core YuppieTown. Which means that KJ and I stand out rather obviously from the other seven couples in the class, if not in appearance, but by some of the things we say and do.

For example: we're the only ones who don't know the sex of our baby. Apparently, Yuppies cannot abide by this, as they don't know what color to paint their nursery.

Speaking of nurseries, Yuppies have to consolidate their two home offices into one when the baby arrives. The would never consider having an infant in a small one-bedroom condo and tucking the baby into the dining alcove. They might consider referring us to Child Protective Services if they caught wind of our plans.

Yuppies are very concerned that they have finished their registries at Pottery Barn Kids (and the like). Also, they are very much flustered when the stroller that they have to have is out of stock, because every other Yuppie family on the Peninsula is buying the same one.

And, most relevant to last night's topic, Yuppies don't see any reason why they ought to experience any pain or discomfort in childbirth at all. As one Yup put it, "I won't feel any closer to my baby if it hurts a lot to get him out." Fair enough, but still...

Every class we're learning something. Sometimes, it's about childbirth.