Yes, I know Tilly's already here, but thought I should probably write the blog that I intended to write on Saturday morning, oh, about the time I was pushing her out...
Have you ever had something you were so sure that was going to happen and when it didn't, you were completely taken by surprise, like all of sudden you woke up one day and the sky was tangerine?! That is what happened to me with Tilly. Don't ask me why, but for some reason, the WHOLE time I was pregnant, I was sure she was gonna come early. I didn't know how early, but I figured this was one of those instinct things like how I was pretty sure Tilly was a girl before the ultrasound confirmed it (well, except for that "nightmare" around week 33 when I had a nightmare that my little girl suddenly was a boy and I had nothing but pink stuff and frilly dresses for him - panicked enough that I made the ultrasound tech re-check at my last ultrasound).
Anyhoo, right from the get go, I was just so sure she was gonna come early - to the point that I was worried she would come out before my time at work was up. So then, a week and a half before my due date, I went on mat leave. Perfect. All I figured every day was, well, she can come now. And then every day, I slept right through the night. No contractions. No water breaking. Not even the mucus plug (boys and anyone else who's never seen it - think of a giant huge marble-size booger. Sorry, can't think of something less gross to explain it)
The weekend before she was due, Tyler got to Regina, and I thought ahhhhhhhhh.... Tilly was just waiting for Daddy to get here! Now she'll come. Hmmm. Still no labour stuff. Day before her due date (Monday Nov 21)... Oh! Maybe this is it!! DAMN - just needed to take a big dump. Off to my family doctor aka. the nicest doctor and possibly person I've ever met. He's got huge smiles and I think he's almost as excited about her imminent arrival as I am. He measures her and guess her at 8.5 pounds. All I can think is, okay muffin, you can come out now. Mommy doesn't want more than a 9 pound baby coming out of there and I need you to still be able to put on some of your adorable newborn clothes!
Get home and that's it - off to the reflexologist. Charlie's been saying that he's got a pretty good success rate getting stubborn babies to come out. Off I go and he massages and pokes and prods my feet and my ankles... Hurts, so something must be happening!! Just to cover my bases, stop on the way home at the health food store to buy red raspberry leaf tea and some castor oil* - sure they're old wive's tales, but she needs to be born by her due date because I was SURE she would be.
Dawn of due date. Wake up. Feel tummy. Feel Tilly kicking away. Is it just me or is she kicking harder? Maybe she's trying to Chuck Norris kick her way out? Should I be shining a flashlight up there to show her the way out? Tyler tries to give her a pep talk. Interesting. Did I just imagine it, or did she just laugh at me? Not one of the gee-this-clown-is-funny kind of laughs. More of the you-mere-mortals-think-you-can-get-me-to-do-what-you-want? kind of laughs. Get the chills. Better call acupuncturist and massage therapist. Can't get in until Monday, Nov. 28. Dammit, this child is kicking my ass in this intense battle of wills.
Wake up Wednesday morning. New idea - gonna try the "Murphy's Law" method of induction. Go shopping to buy all the stuff I need to do a bunch of Christmas baking the next day - gingerbread, sugar cookies, maybe even nanaimo bars. This is gonna work - Murphy's Law is like the Secret - oh, so powerful, sending the vibes out into the universe.
Wake up Thursday morning, sigh, and go to the kitchen and actually do Christmas baking. Curses, this girl is seeing right through me!! New plan of attack. Right now, she's like a diva, in her dressing room, refusing to come out because everyone is catering to her, talking and trying to cajole her on to the stage. Time to try to reverse psycologise this baby. We're not gonna talk to her and beg her to come out today. Nope, she's gonna be so pissed, she'll storm right out of my uterus. This plan is brilliant!
Wake up Friday morning. Damn, that plan was stupid. Time to head to the OB for the appointment I only made because the receptionist made me because Ottilia was supposed to be here by now. Get there and the first thing my OB does is discuss the possibility of induction. I feel so defeated - you win baby. I sign the release form and sign the paper, scheduling it for December 5th. The OB says, that's if she's not already here. I smile weakly and say sure, "IF". Then the OB offers to thin my cervical membranes aka "the rim job" - wow and I thought pap smears were unpleasant. This is pap smear times 100. Oh Shannon, you may have some mild cramping and spotting, so don't worry about it.
Now I just go on about my day as if I'm not even pregnant - sure, I still waddle like the March of the Penguins, but I am a woman thoroughly defeated. I guess this is one of those things where I just have to give up on my certainty, like someone handing me the keys to a beautiful all-expenses paid villa in Southern Spain. Ain't happening.
All day, feeling little pangs, but no big deal - nothing new. About 11pm, feeling... sore. No cramps, no water breakage. Just... sore.
Okay now this is my season cliff hanger... Can't say anymore until the next post because I don't wanna take anything away from the big blockbuster labour story. It's epic but mommy needs to have a sleep now... Please don't let this be like that 80's show Dallas and I'll wake up still pregnant...
* Got home and looked up stuff about taking Castor oil - waaaaaay too scary about the stuff that could happen to baby. Figured I could wait so if anyone needs a bottle of castor oil...
Wednesday 30 November 2011
Wednesday 16 November 2011
Braxton Hicks are jerks
So now I really truly get it. Yes, not getting to have some of the things I love (sushi and sangria, for example) sometimes makes pregnancy seem like FOREVER. Thanks to the last 2 weeks though, I get why in the third trimester, I am already tying to bribe, cajole, and trick this baby to come out of me.
Braxton Hicks contractions suck ass. Sorry to be so blunt, but there's really no other way to put it. John Braxton Hicks in 1872 got these named after him so forever after, he is on my "List". Of course they're named after a man. Sigh.
Books and baby sites make it sound like they're a walk in the park - a slight tightening of the uterus. Bullshit. Take your period cramps. Take the worst one you ever had times about 5. Now imagine that every night for weeks with no end in sight. It's not like I get them constantly, but a good 3 or 4 a night seems to be par for the course until I give up whatever I am doing and go to bed. I can almost hear the Braxton Hicks contractions laughing at me - haha, we have made her bend to our will once again. Like I said, they're totally jerks, akin to those douchebag ex-boyfriends that almost all of us had at one time or another.
Now Braxton Hicks didn't come alone to this party. Oh no, that would be "ruining his rep." He brought along his equally douche-y buddy, Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. Never heard of it? Me either until my last doctor appointment. You see, while getting the lovely Braxton Hicks contractions every night like a Vegas show, SPD has decided it wants to be the opening act / co-star nightly.
Basically, this hormone makes all your ligaments relax so the baby can get out (it's called relaxin - aren't they clever?) One of the places the ligaments need to relax (obviously) is in the pelvis. That baby's head ain't getting out otherwise. Well, in the front, the ligaments are supposed to stretch out a little bit, but if your pelvis isn't "locked" (whatever the hell that means), or they stretch out a little too much, you can get pain. A lot of pain. The best way I can describe it is that it's like getting kicked in the crotch with a really pointy pair of stilettos - but from the inside.
Yes houseboating buddies, for inventing the C-punch term, I am now experiencing a reverse one or 5 on a daily basis. Karma is a bitch. (For non-houseboaters - think of it as the woman version of kicking a man in the family jewels, but with a cruder and unfortunately catchy moniker one thinks up after days of drinking "punch" on the Shuswaps)
The only relief from these two asinine conditions? Laying down. Unfortunately, they also have an annoying little gnat of a cousin - acid reflux. Yep, joy of joys. After Braxton Hicks and SPD have kicked my ass enough to make me go to bed at 7:30pm, about 10 minutes later, acid reflux comes to this little get together and makes me feel like puking all night. Whoopee shit.
So you see, I am starting to get a little desperate - Tilly needs to get her little butt out here. I am in the process of making a list of all the things I can do to convince her to come out - booking reflexology and acupuncture, purchasing a trampoline, and I'm even getting close to drinking castor oil. Any ideas short of a vacuum cleaner are more than welcome - well, almost any. I just remembered who reads this and what you people come up with sometimes frightens me a little.
Braxton Hicks contractions suck ass. Sorry to be so blunt, but there's really no other way to put it. John Braxton Hicks in 1872 got these named after him so forever after, he is on my "List". Of course they're named after a man. Sigh.
Books and baby sites make it sound like they're a walk in the park - a slight tightening of the uterus. Bullshit. Take your period cramps. Take the worst one you ever had times about 5. Now imagine that every night for weeks with no end in sight. It's not like I get them constantly, but a good 3 or 4 a night seems to be par for the course until I give up whatever I am doing and go to bed. I can almost hear the Braxton Hicks contractions laughing at me - haha, we have made her bend to our will once again. Like I said, they're totally jerks, akin to those douchebag ex-boyfriends that almost all of us had at one time or another.
Now Braxton Hicks didn't come alone to this party. Oh no, that would be "ruining his rep." He brought along his equally douche-y buddy, Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. Never heard of it? Me either until my last doctor appointment. You see, while getting the lovely Braxton Hicks contractions every night like a Vegas show, SPD has decided it wants to be the opening act / co-star nightly.
Basically, this hormone makes all your ligaments relax so the baby can get out (it's called relaxin - aren't they clever?) One of the places the ligaments need to relax (obviously) is in the pelvis. That baby's head ain't getting out otherwise. Well, in the front, the ligaments are supposed to stretch out a little bit, but if your pelvis isn't "locked" (whatever the hell that means), or they stretch out a little too much, you can get pain. A lot of pain. The best way I can describe it is that it's like getting kicked in the crotch with a really pointy pair of stilettos - but from the inside.
Yes houseboating buddies, for inventing the C-punch term, I am now experiencing a reverse one or 5 on a daily basis. Karma is a bitch. (For non-houseboaters - think of it as the woman version of kicking a man in the family jewels, but with a cruder and unfortunately catchy moniker one thinks up after days of drinking "punch" on the Shuswaps)
The only relief from these two asinine conditions? Laying down. Unfortunately, they also have an annoying little gnat of a cousin - acid reflux. Yep, joy of joys. After Braxton Hicks and SPD have kicked my ass enough to make me go to bed at 7:30pm, about 10 minutes later, acid reflux comes to this little get together and makes me feel like puking all night. Whoopee shit.
So you see, I am starting to get a little desperate - Tilly needs to get her little butt out here. I am in the process of making a list of all the things I can do to convince her to come out - booking reflexology and acupuncture, purchasing a trampoline, and I'm even getting close to drinking castor oil. Any ideas short of a vacuum cleaner are more than welcome - well, almost any. I just remembered who reads this and what you people come up with sometimes frightens me a little.
Sunday 6 November 2011
Naughty knotty pregnancy
When I found out I was pregnant, I was pseudo-prepared for a lot of the things I've gone through thanks to many friends who preceded me and television. I knew that my back would be sore, and having double D's most of my adult life, I figured big deal. Like that's gonna be anything new. Oh pregnancy, you little prankster, you.
In my first trimester, my back and neck mostly hurt because I sat and slept in any position that would keep me from losing my lunch and I can almost guarantee that somewhere, a chiropractor sensed my discomfort and bought a new car based on my future chiro spending. Oh well, I thought, I knew that this wasn't gonna be a cakewalk (as an aside, could someone somewhere please invent a cakewalk? You know, I'm out, going for a walk in the fresh air to be healthy but interspersing said walk with cake stations? Pregnancy makes my dreams really vivid and this dream made me REALLY happy).
On to the 2nd trimester... back more sore. Go to a massage therapist in Regina, this big guy. He has a table that has a big hole for my tummy to hang out in, but one small problem... or I should say, me being small was the problem. You see, at only 5'1", I am slightly vertically challenged. So there I go onto the massage table, making sure little baby Tilly gets to hang down and chillax in the baby belly hole and then as I lie down the rest of the way... my face ends up in the uncomfortable "seam" of the metal table and the face part so my nose is getting squished and breathing is a little difficult, compared to say, breathing underwater. Get a couple little towels and attempt to MacGyver up a forehead rest so I don't suffocate, which would be counterintutive of the whole massage to make me feel better thing.
Time to get down to business. Tell him I hurt - this guy looks like he may moonlight as a amateur wrestler a la Nacho Libre - and he nods and starts in on me. Holy SHIT - how did I get a knot in the side of my knee?! OMG, that knot in the middle of my right calf somehow just shot up to my left shoulder. Flip me over. Yes, my neck hurts... I HAVE KNOTS IN MY COLLARBONE?! This is getting ridiculous. Go to see him a few times, but, with what I can assume is the amateur wrestler unspoken rule of conduct, he seems to hurt me more and more with every massage. Time to take a little break...
Now it's my 3rd trimester and Tilly is getting bigger and bigger, and with that, it's like she's moved from a 2 bedroom townhouse to a broom closet. With the growing comes growing discomfort. Now, wherever I drive and no matter if it's hot or not outside, the seatwarmers must always be on. Thank you electric heating pad... I love you Lush bubblebath so I can try to soak the knots away (although as another aside, even though this one feels best, getting out of the tub is akin to trying to self-pedicure or put on socks. It ain't pretty)
Been trying reflexology but when I'm honest with myself, I don't think it's really helping much anymore... I think I'm just more into having a half an hour foot rub. Decide to try another massage therapist in the same office. Talk to her and she's had 4 children - A HA! Someone who understands these pesky knots from both sides of the equation! Book in the massage thanks to the new and super fun back spasms and, dare I say it, occasional butt spasms (on the up side, now I really can talk like a New York jewish woman, complaining about my sciatica). She gives me a massge and I explain about the knee and collarbone knots. She nods and says something about there's a few more she'd like to check out...
I have more in my armpits and even my HAIR hurts. Yes, my hair. The hairline at the top of my neck. It's as if my hair is made of something that really really hurts that I can't think of. Not fair... The only other times I've had hurting hair, it ALWAYS involved some alcoholic overage, like vats of margaritas, barrels of sangria, or a picina of rum and coke (we actually did used to drink this when we worked in Mexico - should've come with a warning label)
So now, here I am... Trying to get comfortable is a full time job... On the upside, in the next couple weeks, from what I've heard / seen on television, I'll be so sleep deprived, I don't think I'll even notice the knots anymore. Yay?
In my first trimester, my back and neck mostly hurt because I sat and slept in any position that would keep me from losing my lunch and I can almost guarantee that somewhere, a chiropractor sensed my discomfort and bought a new car based on my future chiro spending. Oh well, I thought, I knew that this wasn't gonna be a cakewalk (as an aside, could someone somewhere please invent a cakewalk? You know, I'm out, going for a walk in the fresh air to be healthy but interspersing said walk with cake stations? Pregnancy makes my dreams really vivid and this dream made me REALLY happy).
On to the 2nd trimester... back more sore. Go to a massage therapist in Regina, this big guy. He has a table that has a big hole for my tummy to hang out in, but one small problem... or I should say, me being small was the problem. You see, at only 5'1", I am slightly vertically challenged. So there I go onto the massage table, making sure little baby Tilly gets to hang down and chillax in the baby belly hole and then as I lie down the rest of the way... my face ends up in the uncomfortable "seam" of the metal table and the face part so my nose is getting squished and breathing is a little difficult, compared to say, breathing underwater. Get a couple little towels and attempt to MacGyver up a forehead rest so I don't suffocate, which would be counterintutive of the whole massage to make me feel better thing.
Time to get down to business. Tell him I hurt - this guy looks like he may moonlight as a amateur wrestler a la Nacho Libre - and he nods and starts in on me. Holy SHIT - how did I get a knot in the side of my knee?! OMG, that knot in the middle of my right calf somehow just shot up to my left shoulder. Flip me over. Yes, my neck hurts... I HAVE KNOTS IN MY COLLARBONE?! This is getting ridiculous. Go to see him a few times, but, with what I can assume is the amateur wrestler unspoken rule of conduct, he seems to hurt me more and more with every massage. Time to take a little break...
Now it's my 3rd trimester and Tilly is getting bigger and bigger, and with that, it's like she's moved from a 2 bedroom townhouse to a broom closet. With the growing comes growing discomfort. Now, wherever I drive and no matter if it's hot or not outside, the seatwarmers must always be on. Thank you electric heating pad... I love you Lush bubblebath so I can try to soak the knots away (although as another aside, even though this one feels best, getting out of the tub is akin to trying to self-pedicure or put on socks. It ain't pretty)
Been trying reflexology but when I'm honest with myself, I don't think it's really helping much anymore... I think I'm just more into having a half an hour foot rub. Decide to try another massage therapist in the same office. Talk to her and she's had 4 children - A HA! Someone who understands these pesky knots from both sides of the equation! Book in the massage thanks to the new and super fun back spasms and, dare I say it, occasional butt spasms (on the up side, now I really can talk like a New York jewish woman, complaining about my sciatica). She gives me a massge and I explain about the knee and collarbone knots. She nods and says something about there's a few more she'd like to check out...
I have more in my armpits and even my HAIR hurts. Yes, my hair. The hairline at the top of my neck. It's as if my hair is made of something that really really hurts that I can't think of. Not fair... The only other times I've had hurting hair, it ALWAYS involved some alcoholic overage, like vats of margaritas, barrels of sangria, or a picina of rum and coke (we actually did used to drink this when we worked in Mexico - should've come with a warning label)
So now, here I am... Trying to get comfortable is a full time job... On the upside, in the next couple weeks, from what I've heard / seen on television, I'll be so sleep deprived, I don't think I'll even notice the knots anymore. Yay?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)