Category — pregnancy

Hey folks, and Happy Due Date Day to ya!

Since these next few week’s could be lacking some content, I’ve created a page just for getting quick updates about what is happening. You might want to click here when you visit, esp because we have planned for a friend of mine who will be here during the birth to update this with the major mile markers of the labor process as it happens.

Verity has been very quiet for some time now; I got a deep sleep in last night– very uneventful, but VERY needed!

Also, here I am this morning, posing with our tulips that have just bloomed this weekend – 40 weeks and counting:

And here are some pics of us this morning at our latest hang out- a waffle sandwich stand down the road called The Flavour Spot. Chris got a nutella/marshmellow fluff waffle sandwich, I got my usual- pb and nutella, and Ethan dared to be different- a pb and lemon curd! All were satisfied

For awhile, having a little baby countdown widget on my sidebar was exciting. I remember watching it breach the 100 days, then the 10 days not long ago. Woo hoo, I thought. Getting closer! And indeed, I was.

But now the very sight of it, mocking me with its reading of “40 weeks! It’s go time!” is just downright uncalled for. I say, “Dude – shut your pie hole! I KNOW this!” back at it. (In my head; out loud would be a little bit awkward.)

After Ethan went “late”, I kinda thought- okay, I’ve paid my dues. I’ve experienced the mind-boggling alternate reality of the Overdue, where lack of sleep, frustrated attempts to “get things goin’”, boredom, and eventually hormonal hysteria, finally leave you actually thinking, OMG. I WILL BE PREGNANT FOR EVER!

It is almost 8pm, pacific time. Unless I go into labor NOW and it lasts less than 4 hours (har har), I will again miss that coveted experience of having the pregnancy shortened and being surprised by a baby earlier than predicted. It’s funny (though not so much when you are living it right NOW) how things like this can take over every aspect of your life in the final weeks of pregnancy (particularly post-term pregnancy). You already know what people keep telling you – that babies come when they are ready, that due dates aren’t set in stone, bla bla bla, but then this nagging voice in your head chimes in about all the things that could be keeping you from your labor of love and you just want to DO SOMETHING about it, for peet’s sake.

Well, I’ve tried everything this week, everything. My legs are sore I’ve walked so much. I have tried every herbal induction tincture under the sun — even did the castor oil thing. Not much luck, obviously. I am, however, super tired. I slept a whopping two full hours last night, midnight to 2am, and took a one hour nap this afternoon. Perhaps that is the hardest part about being this pregnant – the downright physical exhaustion.

Oh well. This will all be a distant memory soon enough. I will be telling other full term moms to “hang in there” and forgetting all about this most undesirable phase of my own pregnancies. Ay mi.

Tomorrow is my due date. Tonight, the only labor prep I’ll do is drink my tea, take my evening primrose oil, knit and eat a bag of cheetos.

(The healthy kind. I haven’t gotten THAT hysterical )

Well, I had planned to post some beautiful pictures of me with my hair newly dyed, a henna pattern on my swollen belly — radiant as the sun in the goddess glow of pregnancy.

But life got in the way.

Despite that I carefully boiled the water, mixed the sensitive ingredients of henna powders today (the hair dye was also henna)- things just did not work out. After an hour with the plastic bag on my head, my hair looks exactly the same. The same premature gray strands are jutting out from my crown, the same golden lackluster hair adorns my tired little head.

The mehndi pattern on my belly came out funky (I guess you’re not supposed to try doing it yourself in a mirror?) and then the applicator bottle got plugged up. Needless to say, that dream ended with an F-bomb of surrender as I trudged to the bathroom to quickly wash off the beginning of my design.

I had myself a good boo-hoo fest before requesting Hubby’s bicycle delivery service to pick up some red wine, cookie dough, and more evening primrose capsules from New Seasons.

Why haven’t I learned by now that somethings just don’t work out the way you want them to? Why are things so searingly disappointing? At least it makes life colorful. I can laugh about this. Some day.

What’s totally weird?:

• Being down to single digits on the countdown to Verity’s arrival. Tooooootally.

• At last upgrading to the latest Wordpress and updating to a new theme (after doing so for 3 clients already, finally giving a little TLC to my own blog). Kinda “spring”-ish, don’t ya think? Should last a few months, anyway.

• Having nothing, literally NOTHING, else to say right now.

Here I am thinking about what a wonderful sunny time I will have sitting in the front yard with friends knitting this afternoon:

Here I was at the end of the day, after realizing that my burning and itching wasn’t coming from invisible bugs but from my white a** catchin wayyyyyy too many rays!

Here’s Chris’ new road bike he got from the used show today! Mucho mejor for his (we just realized) SIXTEEN MILE commute to and from work each day… he’s totally my hero.

Here’s the diapers I am sewing to go under my wool covers I’ve been knitting (thanks for the free sewing machine, pattern and demo, Tina!!!… she’s another one of my heros.):
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Here’s the shed being built by some great carpenter we live with (ahem-seth-ahem… yet another hero.):
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Here’s the crowd that gathered today to help with the shed, hang out, eat hamburgers fresh off the grill, and otherwise have a good time:
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This is an example of Seth/Lacey’s homemade gourmet pizza we enjoy weekly

Good times…

Whew, week 38! Seems like yesterday was Verity’s celebration and I was SO over being pregnant, but then in the blink of an eye a week has gone by and I am doing great!

She’s having a growth spurt, this little one. Checking out the 4 pounds I gained in one week, the new stretch mark on my belly, and the constant ravenous hunger I’m having, I can safely assume she’s putting on a pound or so of baby fat to tarter her up for Portland’s “Spring” which in my humble Florida-native opinion is way too cold.

Speaking of weather, though, we’re actually having some pretty glorious skies right now. Yesterday I connected with my roots a bit: I walked around barefoot in our yard to cut some pretty dandelions for our vase. There is nothing better than feeling earth, sand, or grass on your feet and the warmth of the sun on your neck. Amazing that I have done without it now for about 5 months! Gosh.

Today the windows are open, beckoning the sunny 65 degree air and the dinging of the bamboo wind chime indoors. Hubby is out looking at some bikes at a used bike sale today, his birthday gift being a used road bike (his is a hybrid) so he can more easily commute to work. When he gets back, we trade off the tot and I get to go swimming with Misty at the community center. My back is feeling better at the very thought of it

Well, okay, I’m wasting time blogging about it rather than being out in it, so I’m going to grab a blanket to lay in the yard a bit and check you guys later.

Up again with too little sleep, unable to quiet down my mind early enough and unable to lay in bed with sore hips and famished (feeling) tummy any longer than 1:30am – 6:30am. Luckily, I did take a short nap yesterday, and hope to do the same today.

I had a counseling session yesterday, followed by a midwife appointment. It was a lot to process and digest, some of which could take me a while, particularly the counseling stuff. I can say I am definitely grateful to the two women, for being a sounding board for my fears. It was necessary to peel back another layer of the “funk” I’ve been talking about. I found myself in the last few weeks going from totally calm, barely thinking about the upcoming birth, to worrying about what position the baby was in and whether or not I could even DO this without the support system I had of two amazing doula’s last time (in the form of my dad and step-mom, lol). Am I ready? Is Chris ready? Is our marriage ready? Is Ethan ready? With the worry, all I wanted to do was have it behind me so I wouldn’t have to prolong the time I spent thinking about it. I was allowing myself to sink into that miserly end-of-pregnancy thing, the season which my midwife theorizes is necessary because it’s the only thing uncomfortable enough for you to actually WANT labor to commence!

I’ve recently come to the hypothesis, based primarily on a hormonal cycle I have noticed the entire pregnancy, that my next “shift” or “surge” of hormones is due (no pun intended ) right around my due date (2.5 weeks – ish). Believing this, I was able to let go of some of the anxiety over being “early” and buck it up mentally for the next few weeks. This helped make room for me to see that each day I am given before Verity arrives is a gift to me, allowing me more insights, endurance, and preparation. Once I began to embrace that, I also realized (and was reminded again by the women I met with yesterday) that at this point, distraction is likely my best medicine. I have a few short weeks left, and there is much I could plan to do, like go for a swim with a friend, write my thank you cards for all the generous people who have helped me pay for the birth so far, knit Ethan’s easter bunny, celebrate Chris’ birthday the next day, get some work hours in, … do my laundry…

Yeah, these last weeks are exhausting ones. Weariness and fatigue are increasingly at your door, (and never more so than in subsequent births- when you have the older sibling(s) to tend to now!) But one of the quotes I’ve had bustling in my head lately is ol’ Charles Swindoll’s (boy, does that name bring ya back?!):

The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it.

While this little post is only the tip of the iceberg with regards to the things I am going through lately, it is really the most, and perhaps only, coherent topic I can share for now.

In conclusion, no more waiting game (spoken primarily to self). Don’t ask me when I think the baby will come or tell me what your best guess is or otherwise in any way ask me about the progress of my cervix (spoken primarily to every one else). When you get an email with a picture of me and a baby in it, you’ll know, lol. (No, seriously. We will not be making any phone calls until I’ve showered, eaten and taken a nap AFTER the birth. So might as well just hang tight, mkay?)

Phew, okay now I need to finish my tea and maybe even go back to sleep… we’ll see

Ethan’s room is finally almost done! I feel so much better knowing he has a space to call his own, a bed to call his own, a home for his clothes and toys and crafts, and additionally a playroom in which his environment can be conducive to homeschooling/unschooling for “pre-k” next year.

Moving him from an 13′ x 15.5′ room to a 10′ x 10′ room presented many challenges, but finally we scored a loft bed set on craigslist that came with everything we needed, including a small dresser, desk w/ hutch, and even a toddler bed to put under it for the “someday” when Verity joins him. At first he was a bit timid about climbing up and down the bed, but within hours he was a total monkey about it and loves his new pad.

I still have some hopes to make some window curtains with some fabric I bought him, as well as some organizing and tweaking to do with his art desk area, but by and large we have made TONS of progress. (This was a goal of mine before I go into labor, so it feels great to be this far along!)

SEE!
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I don’t even know where to begin tonight.

The words are lost to me – an amazing oversight for a talker like me, I know. I will start by explaining my state of mind lately and try to articulate what my heart is being overwhelmed by.

Thoughts have come at me, usually as phrases from my own memory, from a book I’ll be reading, from time in prayer, or from my husband or a friend. Gentle (usually) reminders steering me back on course. My reflection of late has revealed to me characteristics I don’t particularly like. Complaining. Lack of gratitude. Lack of forgiveness. Impatience. Fear of surrender, of pain, of humility, of so many things. Negative reactions and sharp words with an edginess that hints at some deeper turmoil.

There have been flat out miraculous things happening around me this year, and yet I feel hesitant to embrace them. There has been tremendous displays of sacrifice, love, concern, patience, selflessness, creative energy, positive attitudes — but I allow myself to play the role of one who has been too burned to receive it.

The gifts of those around me, even strangers and newly found friends, have been so incredibly generous. I keep getting this image of God breaking through my self-pitiful reality with outstretched arms, utilizing absolute passerby’s in His attempt to show me grace and snap me out of it.

Examples: A beautiful bouquet of flowers given to me, freely, by the florist at New Seasons. “Every one deserves flowers now and then,” she said. Deserves? Not me lady. Not me. My son holding on to my thigh when I leave for the grocery store, telling me how much he loves me and will miss me – after a week of parenting hell in which I failed miserably at nearly every opportunity to show sacrificial, kind love towards him. A husband who tries to hang on to his last drop of patience with me while I stammer on about the ill-designed layout of Ethan’s “new” used loft bed that took us over 6 hours to piece together, who has clearly had it UP TO HERE with my strange bout of o.c.d. that only comes out on him; still he talks with me, loves me, hears me cry and complain, tries to understand and reaffirm me… but isn’t too shy to tell me when I need to leave him alone and stop being a damn nag . Housemates who see my faults, fatigues, immaturity, biting remarks towards those I love the most, rambling off-balanceness of my demeanor – yet I get sympathetic smiles, hot meals, kefir shakes, a backyard shed, and love, love, love. Friends who show up to Verity’s “Celebration” today with amazing gifts – blueberry plants, herbs and edible starters, homemade cloth diapers and time-consuming stitch-work with sweet little tags. A pregnancy that I have such a difficult time being excited about and grateful for- and yet has been completely PERFECT in every way, and has been such a result of collaboration I wouldn’t know where to begin – from friends and elders who helped my marriage start the road to healing to shockingly generous donations towards my efforts to even afford a midwife to birth her.

Oh, that I could possibly be worthy of so much grace. So much attention. So much sweetness. My heart cannot contain the humbling as a result of this. Finally God’s use of my community has chipped away at my week (or more) of self-consumed funk. Feeling I have nothing to offer in return – no poetic string of words feel genuine enough to convey my gratitude and love, nor my humility at my behavior.

If Verity’s life is anything like the grace I have been given during her bearing — and I believe it is significantly linked — then my only adequate posture is one of complete face-on-the-floor worship. What a wild ride I am in for – I am completely unprepared and don’t deserve an ounce of it… which I’m guessing might be just how God works best.

So today marks my “full term” 37th week, and all I have left to say is, Welcome, Verity.
welcome, truth.

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GO?
Well, not just yet. Not just yet for baby arrivals, not just yet for fully-fledged Spring. But I can feel it. BOY, can I feel it!

I’ve been getting in whatever hours I can before I close in on the “full term” mark, organizing baskets of “Verity” essentials the midwives will need if I go into labor, so on. That is what this week has been about.

That and eating. Always eating.

Here’s some pics for your enjoyment:

Ethan tosses up a little Kenton House gang symbol while giving himself a foot rub

Ethan and Caleb on the tire swing at Kenton Park

Accidentally snapped this one. OH, the mom feet … happens to the best of us, I suppose

I swear, Caleb is Ethan’s long lost male cousin

Ethan’s “I almost forgot Portland had flowers” face

Us on the town last weekend

More lovely signs of early Spring!

Homebirth Preparedness Baskets
Our floor level futon bed and co-sleeper – a cozy way to “lay in” with newborn