Exercise is the devil.

I started a spin class. I feel about exercise the way I feel about sleep. It's awesome when you are in the middle of it, and it's hard to stop once you get going, but starting is so hard. I never want to go to bed at night - so many projects I could be doing! I also never want to start exercising - so many cookies I could be eating! And spinning is some kind of medieval torture. For real. And don't even get me started on how much it hurts to sit on those hard bike seats!

Here's hoping a little perseverance will go a long way in shrinking my waist line. I also have an awesome friend who is doing the class with me. It is absolutely necessary to have a gym buddy. I have to go so I don't let her down!

I am going to start padding my pants, though.

Babywearing!

My favorite babywearing site is hosting a giveaway to celebrate 10,000 fans on Facebook. Check out the Paxbaby giveaway and enter!

Amazing.

I hope and strive to be a parent who will raise a person with this kind of strength and sense of their own self-worth. "Having good parents is like winning the lottery." But it doesn't have to be. We all have the power to love and be loved and inspire greatness.

Watch Lana Wachowski's speech to the HRC.

Food fight.

So, Baby Guy is six months old. And adorbs, but you already knew that part. I'm having a tough time with the transition to solid foods. Our pediatrician has been pushing us to start him on solids since our four month appointment which is way too early, in my opinion. And, frankly, I haven't heard anyone quoting from medical studies to support starting solids at a particular age, other than the WHO recommending breastmilk exclusively for at least six months. (Note the "at least".) I get a little irritated when pediatricians resort to scare tactics to force compliance. Some examples: "Breastmilk is deficient in iron after nine months." "Breastmilk is deficient in iron after six months." (Which is it, guys? Get your facts straight.) "You need to increase his caloric intake because he's moving around a lot and needs more calories." (Really? My 86th percentile in weight baby needs a bigger caloric intake? My breastmilk doesn't have enough calories to keep up with him? Pfft.)

So, I'm trying to walk the line between doing what's best for my baby and just digging my heels in. The problem is the conflicting reports. One pediatrician says you need more iron after 9 months. One says 6 months. One says start rice cereal right away, one says rice cereal is just empty calories. I'm being as diligent as possible, doing research and trying to take the advice of my (well educated, experienced) pediatrician, while also remembering to take that advice with a grain of salt.

In the end, like everything else in parenting, I have to go with my gut. I have to do what feels right for me and my baby. I will admit that some of my trepidation in starting solids lies with my fear of losing the breastfeeding relationship. It's a tough transition for me. I am the center of his world right now. I am his Mama and his food and everything that embodies love and caretaking. Soon, he will discover a whole wide world beyond me and the selfish part of me wants to avoid that as long as possible. But the realistic part of me knows that it is better to foster his independence from a place of security, rather than shelter him from the world.

So the short answer is: I don't know. Breastmilk is still, without a doubt, the most nutritious thing he can be eating right now. No one food can replace that. We'll start solids soon, but I'm not in a hurry.

Nap time.

I have had nearly two (count 'em! Two!) solid hours of Baby Guy napping. So what did I do with my time, you may ask? I trolled the Interwebs. Yep. That's right. I sat on my butt and did nothing productive. I kinda wish I had spent it knitting, but I did (re)discover a fabulous blog:  White Chocolate Superstar.

My house is messy and I have a millions projects in the queue, but sometimes it's nice to just veg.

Tested: Infantino Fresh Squeezed

About a month ago, I was selected as a product tester* for Infantino's new line of baby food storage system. If you don't want to read the whole post, this is the main take away point: I love it. There are a few things I would tweak or change, but overall, the Fresh Squeezed system is awesome.

We got to test all this stuff!

The main component is a device that allows you to inject purees into pouches. Pouches are all the rage nowadays because they are so portable. Glass baby food jars are fine for keeping in the fridge at home, but if you are on the go, pouches are the way to go. With the Infantino system, you attach a pouch, put the dispenser on top, add puree of your choice, push down with the plunger, cap, and voila! The greatest thing about this, aside from how easy it is to use, is that you can control exactly what goes in the pouch. No reading labels to check for gross stuff. You puree your own fruits and veggies and you are good to go!

The filling station in action.

There are two options for pouches: the disposable, single use or the reusable silicon. The disposables are theoretically four ounces each. I say theoretically because there is no indication on the filling station of how full each injector should be to reach four ounces. There are some plastic lines on the sides of the injectors, but I'm not sure if they are intended as fill lines. Since I'm apparently not a great judge of how much four ounces is, I way overfilled the first pouch. Super, ridiculously overfilled. It was oozing back out the top when I tried to take it out of the station and I got pureed sweet potato everywhere. Another tester said the same thing, so I'm really just echoing her sentiment here, but I wish there was a fill line or some kind of indication of how much puree to put in to equal four ounces. Also, it's a little hard to rinse out the injectors with something kind of sticky, like sweet potato. You really need a bottle brush or similar to get the whole thing cleaned out for the next use. Everything else we tried rinsed off fairly easily - peas, chickpeas, yogurt, fruit. Otherwise, it's super easy and fast.

The silicon reusable pouch is a good idea, but it's fairly bulky compared to the disposables. I also had a harder time filling it than the disposables. The directions don't specify this, but I found that I had to squeeze out as much air as possible out of the pouch before attempting to squeeze the food in. Otherwise, there was nowhere for the air to go and the pouch wouldn't fill because of the air pressure. It also seems to hold a lot more than the disposable pouches. I had a lot of room left at the top of the bottle when I filled it with the same quantity as the disposables. I like the disposable idea - reduce, reuse, recycle and all that, but I'm not sure how feasible it would be to stock a bunch of them, whereas the disposables are super easy to fill and store a bunch at once. Maybe if the reusable was more like a bag and less like a bottle? Also, I wish the reusable pouch had come with labels or something so you could label it without worrying about having permanent marker on your reusable pouch. The disposables come with a warning to not reuse them, but I felt pretty bad throwing away the pouch and cap away after we ate the peas. I really wanted to reuse the cap, especially.

There is a spoon attachment you can get for the pouches that is really clever. You thread the spoon onto the end of the pouch and you can feed your baby from them spoon. It's really clever. Baby Guy was pretty interested in holding the spoon and getting pureed peas all over his hands and face, but I imagine it could be less messy for an older baby. It's also a good way to control how much comes out of the pouch at once. If you want a slower rate, put the spoon on. Otherwise, just let the baby have it right out of the pouch opening. I ate the peas that way and it was fairly fast. (And tasty!)

The system has a bunch of fun accessories, too. My favorite was the "Steam n' Smush". It's exactly what it sounds like. A little bowl with a colander and a masher accessory. The bowl is on the small side, but it will hold one small, diced sweet potato, for example. Just put a bit of water in the bottom, put the top on and pop it in the microwave for a minute or two. The steamer basket can be a little awkward to fish out if you overfill the basket, like I did, but it's not an insurmountable obstacle. I was really impressed with how well it worked. I didn't bother with the smushing part, as I wanted to puree everything to a fairly creamy consistency, but if you have an older baby, the smush would be great as it would leave some texture without having everything be too chunky. I would also wager that the smush wouldn't really work with the fill station unless you cooked the veggies super soft and mashed the heck out of them. Otherwise, I think there would be too many lumps to make it through the fill hole. The only thing I would change is I would make it bigger. Or have it available in two sizes (small and large).

Steam and smush!

As easy as the whole thing is to use, I would still want to make a fairly large quantity of food if I was going to all the trouble of making baby food, so I wish everything came in larger sizes. A fill station with five fill ports would be ideal, I think. Having said that, everything is sized to match right now. The amount of veggies that fit in the steamer is the amount that will fit in the pouches once pureed,. But it would be nice to have a corresponding larger size of everything.

The only part of the system that left me underwhelmed was the Peppy Puree. It's basically a small food processor. I was pretty excited about this part, but ours never worked correctly. I think there is a stripped gear or washer or something in the base, so the blade couldn't catch and turn. It's also really loud, though that may have been a function of it being broken. It's pretty difficult to get the base and the lid properly attached in the beginning. Once you get it on the first few times, it gets easier, but it's pretty stiff right out of the box. Since we couldn't get ours to function properly, we ended up just using the Baby Bullet to puree. And really, any type of food processor or blender will work.

Some tips:
1. Make sure everything is pureed very smooth. Because the injector openings are small, it does not handle chunks well.
2. Make sure you have enough liquid in the mix when you puree. It makes both blending and filling easier.
3. Invest in a small bottle brush for cleaning thick or sticky stuff out between uses.

Some of the combinations we tried:
1. Coconut milk, Thai curry paste (just a smidge), sweet potatoes.
2. Peaches, blueberry soy yogurt, coconut milk.
3. Chickpeas, miso paste, coconut milk.
4. Peas, plain soy yogurt, dill, garlic powder.

Other ideas we didn't get around to:
1. Cucumber, plain yogurt, mint (or dill).
2. Potatoes, veggie stock (or water), curry powder.
3. Pineapple, pineapple juice, coconut milk, plain yogurt.
4. Cooked oat bran, bananas, mango, apple juice.
5. Cooked red lentils, cooked rice, coconut milk, mustard.

The coconut curry sweet potatoes were a hit, but Baby Guy was not a fan of the garlicky peas. It might be too strong a flavor for him since he's so young and relatively new to solids. All in all, I think we will get a lot of use out of this system. It's really easy to use and super fun. And though I wish it came in a larger size, the smaller size allows you to try out a bunch of different flavor combos. I love that you can customize so easily. Need to pack in more calories? Use coconut milk. Need more iron? Put in spinach or kale. Need more fiber? Add some brown rice or oats. Endless possibilities and super convenient pouches. Oh, and everything is dishwasher safe, BPA-, PVC- and phthalate free. Love, love, love.

This goes in...

This comes out!

*I have received the Fresh Squeezed Squeeze Station from Infantino to facilitate my review.

Once more with feeling: etiquette.

Pro-tip for everyone out there in the real world: if you see a woman with a baby, DO NOT ask if she is pregnant. That bears repeating: DO NOT ask a woman carrying a baby if she is also pregnant. It doesn't matter how old the baby is, or how "pregnant" she looks. Just hold your tongue. I mean it.

I have had two or three people ask me in the past month or two ask if I was pregnant. While I was holding my four or five month old son. Look, I get it. I am unfit. I am overweight. I KNOW THIS. I have a mirror. There is no need for anyone else to point it out. I dress appropriately for my weight. I am not shimmying around in tiny shorts and skin tight shirts, but the fact of the matter is that I had a baby not that long ago, the recovery was hard, and I am struggling to lose weight. Sure I lost the baby-related weight easily, but I have additional weight to lose. And having a baby shifts your body around in unanticipated ways. So I am now flabby in places I wasn't before. I AM WORKING ON IT.

FYI rude jerks: babies are a lot of work. I'm doing the best I can and I really don't appreciate your comments. SO STOP.

The next person to comment is either getting punched or tears. Or both. I haven't decided yet. But please, for the sake of all the mothers out there, stop asking if I (or any other woman with a baby) am pregnant.

Rant over. (For now.)

Discovery.

I used to be a runner. In fact, I used to be not bad at it. At my peak, I could run 5 miles without breathing through my mouth. (Thank you yoga.) At some point, life intervened. I got shin splints. Really bad shin splints. I stopped running. Gained weight. Gained more weight. I was horrified to realize that my "peak" running fitness was almost 10 years ago. I think of 2003 as being recent, but, um, it's not.

After having the baby, I lost the pregnancy weight really fast. (Breastfeeding rocks.) I "got my body back", so to speak, but my body sucks! I don't want my body. I want my body from 10 years ago! I've been feeling increasingly unhappy with my body. I am horrifically scarred from the stretch marks and the c-section, and I am 40 pounds overweight. I can't handle those things in tandem. Looking at it objectively, I suppose it's good that they are coinciding, because it's spurring me to action. To be frank, my motivation is 95% vanity. I don't want to be fat anymore. I don't want to feel ugly. I don't want BG to look back at his baby pictures and wonder why I'm not in any of them. "I was fat and ashamed" feels like a sorry excuse.

So what to do? I wanted to get back into running, but didn't really have that thing that pushes you over the edge from thinking to doing. Then I ran into an old acquaintance, who is rapidly becoming a true friend. She is a serious runner. She is training for a half Ironman and she is in great shape. She and I chatted about running and she told me to email her and she would give me some advice. I did. She returned my email with a lot of thoughtful discussion, and laid out a preliminary workout regimen. I went out and bought running shoes.

Half of the workout routine is light calisthenics. I am supposed to do 15 sit-ups, push-ups, and squats. My big discovery is that after the c-section, I can't do a single sit-up. Not one. I literally cannot sit up from laying flat on my back. It's a little scary. Don't get me wrong, I certainly wasn't the sit-up champ before the c-section, but it is disturbing to me that I can't sit straight up. Especially being almost five months post-partum and feeling "recovered".

I went on my first "run" this morning. I say "run" because it was more like jog for a minute, walk for two or three  minutes. I went 20 minutes out and 20 minutes back and did my calisthenics afterwards. My legs are so tired, but I feel really good about getting up and going. It's hard for me to give up the extra sleep, but ultimately it's worth shedding the weight and feeling better about myself. And it's nice to have a little slice of time that's all mine.

I also signed up for the Ragnar Relay in DC at the end of September. It's a stretch for me to go from what I am now to being able to run three miles in a single go, but I think it's good to have a "reach" goal. And if I can swing it, I think I'm going to join a local "fun run" group. Though they run at 5 am. God help me.

Lesson learned.

Strollers are not easier or more convenient than babywearing.

They are only lighter. As in, I am not lugging around a 17 lb baby and a 15 lb diaper bag.

So, lesson learned. Even if it's a Cadillac stroller, it's still kind of a pain in the ass. (But a necessary one, occasionally.)

I bought a zoo stroller.

It's been apparent for some time now that we should probably have a stroller. I know. This is turning out the same way our home birth did, which is to say, nothing like we planned and actually, completely opposite of what we thought. Welcome to parenthood.

When Allen and I go anywhere together, we carry Butterbean. One person carries the baby, the other carries the diaper bag. When I go grocery shopping, or run any of our other myriad errands, strapping Baby Guy (BG for short) to me in the Beco or other carrier makes sense. It keeps my hands free and I can also push a shopping cart around. But there have been times when I am on my own with BG that carrying a baby and a diaper bag is too much. Mostly when I go in to the city by myself. I can easily drive to the city, but it's usually more trouble than it's worth. I have to time it so I don't get caught in rush hour each way, and navigating DC is frustrating on an epic level, even with a GPS. And don't even get me started on parking. As a result, I haven't been going into the city. BG and I could be visiting friends or going for walks or seeing museums, but I find myself shying away from those trips because of the huge hassle or either driving or lugging around a baby and a big ol' bag in ridiculous heat.

So we bought a stroller. Literally one week after attending a babywearing conference. Yeah, we're those people. Here's the ridiculous part (as if it wasn't ridiculous enough): we didn't buy just any stroller, oh no. We bought a freaking Cadillac stroller. This one in fact: Britax B-Ready. We got a crazy good deal on it, and we figure we'll be having a second child in the next 2 years so we might as well get a stroller that can accommodate 2 instead of getting a single and upgrading later. Plus, it's so flexible with seat arrangements. And it's so pretty. I kind of love it. I would recommend it to anyone with 2 small children. It's a lot smaller than all the other double strollers and like I said, flexible seating arrangements. You can also dock your carseat in it, bassinet style, and it doesn't necessarily have to be a Britax carseat. Our Chicco Keyfit 35 fits in there. Britax is also running a special where you buy 5 things from their line of baby stuff and get a free toddler car seat. We got 2 out of 5 for free, and the other 3 were crazy on sale, so we are also getting one of these car seats as soon as I turn in our UPCs: Britax Boulevard 70.

So now, I'm officially going to be the person I hate. The person who takes a giant ass stroller on the metro. Hopefully I'll be more polite with it than the people I have complained about, but feel free to say, "I told you so". We took it on a test run yesterday, walking around the neighborhood and our first "real" outing will hopefully be tomorrow, barring thunderstorms.

I know. But whaddya gonna do? 

Meatless Monday: Local eats.

Apparently, it's National Vegetarian Week in the UK. The Washingtonian ran a story today about some of the best meatless options at restaurants around the District. So, in lieu of me rambling about something, I'll just link the story. There's some yummy stuff in there if you live in the Metro area or are planning to visit. Enjoy!

http://www.washingtonian.com/blogs/bestbites/events/critics-picks-25-of-our-favorite-vegetarian-dishes.php

Score!

We went to the free public day of the babywearing conference on Saturday. Half the traffic lights were out in DC due to a crazy storm the night before, trees were down all over the city and we had no power at home. Plus, the event was pretty disorganized and half-assed, if you ask me. Even so, we got some good info - like a demo on how to use a damn ring sling! (I have tried and tried but can't figure it out on my own. Finally tried to "follow along" with my sling as the instructor was demo-ing.) There were lots of neat vendors there and a raffle. The raffle was super stupid. They were supposed to hold it every half hour, but we only ever saw them do it once... And the raffled off like 3 drawings worth of stuff. We hung out long past when we were ready to leave to wait for the last raffle, which never materialized. There was some kind of miscommunication and we waited around for no reason apparently.

But! Lest you think we had no fun... We met a guy who started his own baby carrier business after pimping himself out in a deluxe carrier. (That man can sew like no one's business, but his website needs some work.) His carriers are freaking genius and I want one! I saw one that had owl fabric (love!) and one that had STAR WARS fabric! Star wars fabric, people! Don't even get me started on the pockets and clips and other cool features...

We didn't win anything at the raffles, but while chatting with the Britax people about carriers and strollers, they gave us a free carrier! It doesn't have everything I want in a carrier, but then again, nothing does. But man oh man is it comfortable! It's so soft and padded and cushy! I wore Baby Guy in it for hours and didn't get that pinch in my back I get with the Beco. Then, when I asked the guy about the raffle (after waiting around for an extra 2 hours...), he explained that there weren't any more, but gave me a pair of Beco baby socks (the thigh high ones)!

I love free stuff! Score!

Caught.

I walked out to the car today to grab my cell phone charger and some guys wearing walking by with a group of kids. I smiled and said hello and they smiled and said hi back. It was only when I got inside the house that I realized: they were probably smiling because they just saw the most stereotypical hippie evar... I was wearing a head scarf and those wide cotton culottes that were popular with Southern college girls about 6 years ago, and I had a baby strapped to me with a ring sling. Luckily they couldn't see me being vegan.

Totally caught being a hippie.

Have baby, will travel.

As a new Mama, I've been looking for things to do. I have found that my little guy travels well (we run a lot of errands), and no one likes being stuck in the house all the time, even a homebody. :-) There is no end to the activities available to us in the DC metro area, but it's hard to find them all in one spot. It gets a little frustrating. Since I'm still not sure where I'm going with this blog, I decided I might as well put up some of the local haps for any local Mamas who are wanting a little excursion. I'll try to post them as often as I find them!

First up: the International Babywearing Conference. This conference takes place at Catholic University in DC from June 29 through July 2. There is a free public day and green festival on Saturday, June 30th. It's hosted by the Beltway Babywearers group. I've been to one of their meetings and they are a friendly and helpful bunch. If you have ever wanted to try out a carrier, this is the event for you! Lots of information, lots of vendors, lots of friendly people ready, willing and able to help you. Plus, lots of cute babies! I'm planning on going with my little guy, and hoping to score a mei tai carrier while we're there. He's starting to outgrow the moby, and it's a little warm for it anyway (N.B. I loved, LOVED the moby. I'm super sad that it's too warm for one. We might try to find a woven wrap instead - similar to a moby but more breathable, less stretchy fabric). We love our Beco carrier, but we need more than one, especially since we don't have a stroller yet!

Hope to see you there!

Want, want, want!

As many of you know, we don't own a stroller. We figured we'd get one eventually, but just haven't really needed it. We love strapping baby guy into the carrier. But then I saw this:

http://www.shop4moms.com/origami/

It is crazy expensive and I. Want. It.

Meatless Monday: Summer soup.

I love this soup. It came to me in a roundabout way. I read about it on a friend's blog, looked it up on Google, found the recipe in the MIT online paper, and fell fast in love. To me, this is the perfect summer soup. Lots of yummy veggies, citrus, served cold. It packs a big flavor punch. I can eat it by the gallon, but it's a little strong for Allen to have as more than a side dish. In my version, I omit the sugar, use OJ from a carton and omit the mushrooms (I refuse to eat raw mushrooms). I also tend to use cherry or grape tomatoes sliced in half and omit the cilantro. Hmm... I guess my version uses this as a guideline, huh? :-) At any rate, it's delicious. We have it as a starting course when we have sandwiches. Pure deliciousness.

Chilled Avocado Citrus Soup from Nadsa de Monteiro’s The Elephant Walk

4 Servings

1 small onion, chopped

1 tbsp salt

1 quart orange juice, freshly squeezed

1 cup lime juice, freshly squeezed

1 tbsp sugar

2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp black pepper

1 tsp garlic, chopped

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

3 avocados, cut into 1/2 inch cubes

2/3 cup button mushrooms, sliced 1/4 inch thick

2 cups plum tomatoes, diced without pulp

1 tbsp cilantro, chopped

Cover the chopped onion with 1 tbsp salt for 20 to 30 minutes. Rinse the salt completely off the onion, then drain and squeeze off excess water.

Mix remaining salt, black pepper, orange juice, lime juice, garlic, and sugar. Add olive oil and mix well. Add the diced avocados, mushrooms, tomatoes, and onion. Stir gently to mix. Let chill one hour before serving.

Directly before serving, add 1 tbsp cilantro to soup and stir to mix.

Original recipe posted here:
http://tech.mit.edu/V129/N26/elephant/recipe.html

Apropos of nothing...

I want all the shoes:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/uku2

So much for social events.

Call me naive, but I assumed we would be able to maintain some of our social outings with a baby in tow. I'm not talking opera at the Kennedy Center or anything, but family oriented events shouldn't be difficult. Butterbean travels well and there is a lot happening in the area. Thus far, our outings that involve other families with babies have gone well. Birthday parties, baptisms, coffee and lunch dates. But a few others... Well, disastrous just about covers it.

Our first family adventure was to a free outdoor showing of Kung Fu Panda 2 at the National Harbor. We got there early, got good seats, got gourmet popcorn. The movie started late, they blared the sound so loud that almost everyone in the audience had to complain before they turned it down. They stopped the movie 5 minutes in for fireworks that went off at the other end of the harbor. Then a storm blew in, apparently unexpectedly, and everyone leaving the square was chaos. We had to wait 30 minutes just to pay for parking, another 30 to get out of the garage, and by then they were just waving people through without having to pay. It was such a disaster that I actually emailed their PR people about it. The good news is that they responded promptly and positively and sent us some free parking passes. But I don't know if we'll go back.

Fast forward to today, when I was about to buy tickets for a Wolftrap performance. They are showing The Wizard of Oz, with the National Symphony Orchestra playing the score. Allen and I went to something similar a few years ago when they played Lord of the Rings. It's a nice time - you can bring a picnic, they have a spacious lawn, and the nights are warm. As I was about to purchase tickets, I discovered that everyone, including children, regardless of age, has to have a ticket. So instead of paying $40 for Allen and I to go and have a picnic and listen to some music on a nice lawn, we have to pay $60 because we are bringing our 3 month old son with us. And they don't offer discounted tickets for children. Really? I'm actually kind of mad at them about this. It's ridiculous to pay a full price ticket for an infant. He's certainly not watching the movie, or listening to the music. He'll be sleeping! And given the amount of money they spend on advertising and the hit the arts have taken in the recession, you'd think they'd rather have our $40 than for us to not go at all because of their stupid ticketing policies and prices. If he was five, I'd understand. But really? A 3 month old has to have a full priced ticket? So family outing number two is a failure before it even got off the ground. And I was actually planning to go to a few of their performances this year.

So it's back to the drawing board. Luckily there are lots of free museums and such in the city. Hopefully our next family outing won't end up as a cautionary tale. ;-)

Hilarious if you are a knitter...

Overheard in my local yarn shop:

30s-ish mom to grandma: They have "sport" yarn here. I think that would be the best for Billy. Something hardwearing that will last him a while. Something rugged.

I had to bite my lip.

Ugh. I am so over this.

I am grossed out by hair that is not attached to my head. So I was absolutely loving not shedding any hair for my entire pregnancy. And it's even worse to be losing it in handfuls now after not losing any for most of the last 12 months. I pull out fistfuls in the shower and fistfuls when I comb my hair. And the spend the rest of the day pulling hairs off my clothes, out of Butterbean's mouth and obsessing about whether any have gotten into my food. (FYI: If it does, I refuse to eat it.)

At this point, I'd prefer baldness. (Though I have no bald spots or anything like that.) When will it end?!

Time is not on our side.

I was going to post a whole rant about that Time magazine cover. You know the one. But I am tired of it. Anyone who uses that cover to make a decision about breast feeding is not informed. Period. I'm not going to link the cover photo and I refuse to read the article that accompanies it. If we give sensationalist media the attention the so desperately crave, they keep putting out sensationalist media. It's a vicious cycle and I don't want to participate.

Here's the thing. I don't cover up when I feed my son. Not in my house, not in public. I don't do it to be an activist about it or make a statement. I don't cover up because I need to see what's going on. I suffered through cracked, bleeding nipples in the beginning and I want to make sure his latch is correct. I also like to see my baby. I want to know if he's falling asleep, or spitting up, or nursing because he's hungry or needs comfort or is tired. It's also really hot under there! He's already up against my skin (which may or may not already be sweaty), and it's getting hotter every day, and putting a blanket on top of the whole thing would make everyone involved miserable. I will admit that I feel a little bit like everyone else should get over it already. I'm not doing anything weird. I'm feeding my baby. It's not like I'm breastfeeding my husband. And if it makes you uncomfortable, guess what? You don't have to look! That's the beauty of it! And if you did happen to look? You'd see a 0.5 second flash of nipple before a baby head eclipsed your view. But if it makes you feel uncomfortable, maybe you should examine the reasons why... Just sayin'.

I have noticed that in mixed company, most moms will cover up, but when it's mostly other moms of small babies, almost no one covers up. There are certain "safe" spaces to breastfeed without a cover - like a La Leche League meeting, or a mommy play date, and that makes me kind of sad. On the one hand, personal comfort level trumps all. If you don't feel comfortable breastfeeding without a cover in public, then you shouldn't. But on the other hand, you are feeding your child and that is beautiful. Period.

I feel very strongly about breast feeding. I would consider myself a "lactivist", as one friend put it. I think that sexualizing women's bodies in Western culture has had a deleterious effect on our self-esteem, but also on how we view babies and child-rearing in general. The World Health Organization recommends exclusive breast feeding until at least six months of age, and recommends continuing breast feeding until age two. Formula, like c-sections and the like, is an amazing advancement that allows us to feed babies who otherwise wouldn't have access to food. How you choose to feed your baby is your business, and formula-fed babies are still being fed with love by their parents. I'm not here to make any judgments about people who choose formula over breastmilk. Some women don't have a choice in the matter, and their babies grow up healthy and strong, too. But I will say this, if you can breastfeed, you definitely should. Not just because of the benefits for your child - those are myriad and well documented. (Side note: breastmilk is seriously magic.) But for you. I felt super weird about breastfeeding until my son was born. I had weird dreams about breastfeeding all sorts of weird people and it was upsetting. But when he was born and latched on for the first time, it was a magical moment. It sounds cliche to say it like that, but honestly, it was like no one else in the world existed but us. And now that he's a little bit older, he looks at me while he eats and it's like we have a silent conversation with our eyes. It's a connection I have with him that no one else in the world has, and it's amazing.

One final note: La Leche League is an amazing organization. You can call a leader any time, day or night for advice and help with breastfeeding. They were instrumental in getting me through the first few (rough) weeks of breastfeeding. It's a mama-to-mama support network, and is just all around great. If you have questions or concerns or need help or just need to hear from people in similar situations, look them up. It's so worth your time.

Oof.

So, hi. It's been a while. In addition to trying to find free time with a baby (impossible, FYI), I've been pondering what to do with the blog. My whole life revolves around Butterbean - in a good way, not in an unhealthy, "I should get out more and stop helicopter parenting" way - and as such, I have very little to discuss that doesn't directly involve or pertain to him. Allen and I are very consciously trying to minimize his digital footprint until such time as he can control it directly. He should have a say in what is put up about him on the Internet for everyone to see for all eternity. (Or until civilization collapses and the Internet doesn't exist anymore.) So, what do I talk about?

I've discovered some amazing things about motherhood in general. First of all, post-partum hair loss starts around the time your baby is eight-ish weeks old, but really starts to kick into high gear around 10-12 weeks. I'm pulling out fist-fulls of hair when I brush now. Pregnancy was fabulous - I didn't lose any hair so I had a full head of thick, beautiful locks. That is all a distant memory now. Also, TMI warning, the hair on my underarms and legs hardly grew at all, while the hair on my head grew like crazy. Again, now a thing of the past. Not that I was ever a particularly hairy person, thankfully, but still. Sigh.

On a positive note, I've lost all but about two to five pounds of my pregnancy weight! Breastfeeding rocks, guys. For serious. I haven't done anything other than breastfeed and carry that baby around. Granted, I still have the 40 pounds I should have lost before I got pregnant, but we're taking baby steps here.

Speaking of breastfeeding, I finally feel like we've got it down. And I, apparently, am a freaking milk making machine. So, I decided to donate breastmilk. There are a few Facebook groups that will coordinate women who have extra with women who need extra, but the thing that bothers me about that is that it's unvetted. You can pass communicable diseases through breastmilk, and while I know my own medical history is free and clear, these women don't. They have to take my word for it, which seems... Sketchy. So, I'm donating to a milk bank (Milkin' Mamas) who in turn sell to a pharmaceutical company (Prolacta Bioscience) who concentrates the milk down into a human milk protein supplement for NICU babies and sells it to hospitals around the country. On the one hand, I feel good that my extra milk is helping NICU babies, but on the other hand it bothers me that I am donating and these companies are making a (serious) profit off of it. Well, Milkin' Mamas at least makes a donation to a different charity each month on behalf of all the donating moms.

I know I've said this before, but I am having a hard time balancing my time. I have a lot of time during the day to go places and do things (with Butterbean in tow), but most of my friends work or have other obligations during the day. Evenings and weekends tend to be difficult because it's the only opportunity I have to spend time with Allen, and quite frankly, I'm usually exhausted by the end of the day. I am trying to make more of an effort to get out in the evenings. I feel like I've been pretty neglectful of some friends that have been nothing but kind and understanding. Ladies, I promise I'm trying to get my act together. Every day gets easier as Butterbean gets older and we get to know each other better.

It's a work in progress.

Means to an end.

A friend recently commented that we have differing views of childbirth, in that she viewed it as a "necessary evil". A means to an end. (She is planning a hospital birth with epidural.) The funny thing is, I totally agree with her. I mean, I think I come across in the blog as someone who believes that every woman should have a natural childbirth and love laboring and pushing the baby out. Or as someone who thinks that women can't be complete if they choose to forgo the primal birth experience.

I am here to tell you folks, nothing could be further from the truth. I am not a fan of pain. I think that medical advancements like epidurals and c-sections are miracles and save lives when used properly. I need look no further than my son and my own mirror for evidence of that. What I think is that those things are overused, to the detriment of the women and babies they were originally designed to be helping and saving. Everything worth having has a cost. The price of admission to motherhood is labor and delivery. There is no getting around that.

Epidurals are great in that they dull and/or eradicate the pain of contractions and pushing. But that has a price too. It's hard on babies, makes bonding and breastfeeding more difficult because it makes the babies groggy for longer, and it seriously increases your risk of complications, like severe tearing and c-section. I have tried to push a baby out while under the influence of an epidural. Let me tell you: it was a purely theoretical exercise. I could feel nothing. The doctor, nurse and midwives had to tell me when a contraction was starting. They had to instruct me on how to push because I had no sensation below my chest. You think it's something you should know how to do instinctively, but honestly, I felt like I was paralyzed. I felt like I was trying to push with all my might but I wasn't able to control the muscles. It was weird. And if I had pushed my baby out that way? I would have had no physical feedback to tell me to slow down or to hurry. I imagine I would have had significant tearing had my son been born that way.

I'll be frank here. Having been through labor, I am terrified of it now. I was trepidatious about labor when I was pregnant. It was a giant unknown and I knew, from accounts by other moms and by the sheer physics of the situation, that it was going to be painful. I was prepared, or so I thought. But the reality of my specific labor experience was excruciating. I was in labor - hard, active labor - for a long time, and was throwing up from the pain by the end. I was literally begging my unborn son to stop moving inside me because every movement from him caused another contraction. I was sobbing through each contraction and terrified that I was in serious trouble because it was going on for so long and was so painful. It also made me re-evaluate my tolerance for pain. I thought I had a high tolerance, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe my labor was more painful than usual because of the complications we had, but maybe it was just normal. Maybe it was normal but way longer. I have no idea and no real way to objectively judge.

If I were to get pregnant again (a long shot, but you never know), I would have to very seriously consider a scheduled c-section, even knowing how awful the recovery is. Yeah. I'm serious. I'm that afraid of going through labor again. My fear stems from a very specific circumstance - a long, painful labor that ended in a c-section - and maybe it's heightened because the experience is still so fresh in my mind. But that epidural was such a tremendous relief. I wish I was a writer or a poet so I could capture the vast expanse of the relief I felt when that epidural went in. Everything in my world was tipped off axis up to that point, and then it suddenly righted. That's as close as I can come to the feeling. So I know first hand how tempting the promise of a pain-free delivery can be. The reality is that there is no such thing. You will have the pain; having the epidural only delays it.

I advocate for natural childbirth, and rant about the high rates of c-sections, not because of a machismo belief that women need to be warriors in their birthing experiences, but because this is how it's designed to work. The more you mess around with the way it's supposed to happen, the more you are inviting complications and negative outcomes. Epidurals are fantastic, but is the upside worth the downside? It's a pretty big downside, and it's something that each woman has to decide for herself. All I'm saying is, know what the downside is before you sign up for it. If you weigh the evidence and still decide it's right for you, more power to you. I certainly did, so I would never dream of judging someone who wanted an epidural. I just think we need to take back our healthcare and have informed consent.

Meatless Monday: Israeli Couscous salad

Oops. I was supposed to post this yesterday. Should have investigated the auto-publish a bit further...

This recipe is an approximate guess of a salad my friend Kim brought over when we were house-bound and recovering. It was the tastiest thing I'd had in a while, and we've had it two more times since then. She said it originally came from Martha Stewart, but I've never seen the original recipe. I normally am not a huge fan of mushrooms (unless they have been cooked to death in tons of butter), but I can't get enough of them in this salad. It's that good. Believe it.

Israeli Couscous Salad

2 c. Israeli couscous (also sometimes called pearl couscous)
2.5 c. water
1 package of baby bellas, sliced
1 bunch scallions, sliced
1 bag frozen corn (approx. 2 c.)
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed
juice from 2-3 limes (or to taste)
salt and pepper to taste

Bring the water to boil and add the couscous. Stir , cover, lower heat and simmer until the water is absorbed. You can alternatively toast the couscous in a bit of butter or olive oil before adding water and cooking for a deeper flavor. Totally up to you. Set aside.

In a large wok/pot/pan, saute the mushrooms in olive oil, just until they lose the raw edge (don't brown them). Then add the scallions and saute for a few minutes more. Then add the corn and black beans and saute until the corn heats through. Then add the couscous and toss everything together until well mixed. Remove from heat and add lime juice, salt and pepper to taste.

It should be mildly citrusy, but not overwhelming. You want the veggies to shine through. Of course, this is the lazy version. You can use fresh corn, and make the black beans from scratch instead of canned. Any way you slice it, this salad is yum. Serve with some avocado slices on top. (We have it as a side with sandwiches or wraps or chili.)

Having a baby is hard, yo.

I have no idea how Mommy-bloggers keep it up. I am a stay-at-home-mom and I can barely get my teeth brushed every day, let alone household chores and the like. So the blog has taken a very far back seat.

Our baby guy is just over 5 weeks old now and every day gets easier as we figure him out. And since he's survived this long with us as his parents, we must be doing something right. Right? We're taking short excursions, which generally goes well. Our guy is a good traveler, though he'll be put to the test when we take a plane trip next month. I'm already girding my loins for the onslaught of dirty looks from the other passengers.

Know what else is hard? Breastfeeding. It's true. It's the most natural and yet the most difficult thing. Well, it's easy to do, but hard to get right. I suffered through the cracked, bleeding nipples though everyone at La Leche League swears that it should happen. Or it shouldn't have to happen, at least. Again, if you are doing it right. Which we were obviously not. We've got it mostly figured out, but I'm here to warn you: even when you are doing it right, it's uncomfortable for the first few weeks. The latch still stings for me, as does the milk letdown. But Butterbean is growing and thriving and that makes me so freaking proud, so it's all worth it. If ever you find yourself with a newborn, even if you think you know what you are doing - I certainly did. I read books about it for cripes sake! - get help. Early and often. The local LLL, other breastfeeding moms, your pediatricians office should have some lactation consultants on staff, the hospital does too. All valid resources and I used every single one. Plus, seeing that other women are struggling with it too makes it easier to power through. I never considered giving up, because we didn't have the extreme problems that some women have, but having other breastfeeding mamas to commiserate with made the experience much better all around.

So, in summary: having a baby is a lot of hard, hard work. It's the best thing I've ever done.

Why would anyone choose this?

Recovering from a c-section is hard, people. For reals. Having been through the experience, I have no idea why anyone would choose a c-section over a natural childbirth on purpose. The recovery is long and arduous. I had a catheter in place for the epidural and surgery and I was upset that the nurses removed it 12 hours after the surgery because I knew that meant I'd have to get up to go to the bathroom. Sorry to be so graphic, but it's true. Just moving was agonizing in that first week. And my pace was sooooooo slow. Keep in mind that I'm from the South and no one walks fast there. So when I say slow, know that I'm measuring it against the Southern pace and you'll get an idea of just how slow I was going. And, oh sweet Jesus, laughing, coughing, sneezing, sitting up in bed, getting out of bed... Any of that was pure agony. Allen is a pretty funny guy and makes me laugh all the time. I had to stop him about 50 times in that first week from making jokes.

It wasn't as painful the second week, but I was still pretty sore. The nurses removed the staples holding the incision together before I left the hospital and replaced it with surgical tape. Allen had to take the tape off for me at the end of the second week because I couldn't see over the postpartum chub to do it myself. The weird thing is that there is a swath of skin around the incision - say two inches on the top and bottom - that has almost no sensation. It's like when your foot falls asleep and just barely starts to wake back up. The nerve endings get severed along with everything else when they cut you open. No one tells you this beforehand, by the way. (I actually did have foreknowledge from a friend who had a c-section...) So removing the tape didn't hurt peeling off my skin, but was painful and nerve-wracking peeling off the incision itself. Also, in the second week? That incision starts to itch like freaking crazy. It still itches but I'm afraid to scratch it because a) I'm afraid I'll tear open the incision itself, and b) I'm afraid I'll tear open the skin around the incision that is marred by stretch marks. (I've done that a few times already. Scratched an area that has a stretch mark and ripped open that skin - presumably because it's already damaged and thinner than the surrounding skin. It's not fun.)

The third week is better in terms of pain. I'm a little bit sore, but I've been off pain meds for about a week now. But I get ridiculously tired by the end of the day doing minimal activity. Above and beyond the normal "I have a newborn and am getting no sleep" tired. And having a c-section doesn't spare you any of the bleeding or cramping postpartum. You still get to do all of that, too, with the added "benefit" of recovering from major surgery. Fun.

The other things that suck about a c-section are all the restrictions. It's major abdominal surgery, but what that actually means is you can't drive for three weeks afterwards. You can't (or shouldn't) climb up and down stairs for two weeks after. This particularly sucks if you live in a three level house because it means you are confined to the floor with the bathroom. Ask me how I know. Related: ask me how I didn't go insane. It was a close call. You also can't do any abdominal exercises for at least two months postpartum, and you can't soak in water (no baths, no pools) for two months. Yeah. That's a lot of restrictions.

Don't get me wrong: I still feel 100% that the c-section was the right call for us. I am totally at peace with, and even happy about how our birth story came out in the end. But after having the experience, going through the surgery and the recovery (and I'm only three weeks in to the recovery), I really can't fathom why anyone would choose a c-section over a vaginal delivery. I suppose they think they are sparing themselves pain or some other unpleasantness in the lady-bits, but unless you have very serious complications, I can promise you will be happier with a vaginal childbirth. The only thing a c-section spares you is the pain up front. But that's really only if you schedule one in advance and don't go into labor. If you are "lucky", like me, you get to have 30 hours of labor and a c-section. All in all, labor is a scary prospect. But I promise that you will be happier, have a shorter recovery time and have an easier time caring for your newborn if you opt for a vaginal delivery. (Though that epidural was nice, not gonna lie.)

Giant baby hysteria.

I had a low lying placenta placement and had to have an ultrasound at 35 weeks to make sure it had moved up and out of the way. At that ultrasound, I'm sure you remember me ranting about this, the tech tried to tell us that the baby was already over 7 pounds. Which, given the weight gain they do in the last month, put us on par for an over 10 pound baby. You may also remember me dismissing this as crap.

As we passed the due date and the midwives got increasingly nervous about getting labor started, they also tried to tell me he was going to be a big baby and we should try to get him out sooner rather than later because all he was doing was putting on weight. They could "tell" by direct palpation of my belly. Now, throughout my pregnancy, the midwives had been emphasizing that you will grow the right size baby for your body, and only in the rarest of circumstances will you grow a baby that is "too big". So why all the concern about a huge baby?

What, really is the difference between a 7 pound and a 10 pound baby? The head can't be much, if any bigger. It's really just the body that would have extra fat on it. So why all the hysterics? Maybe because of other complications further down the line? I have no idea. With some midwives, they assured me that a 10 pound baby was not going to be a problem for me to deliver, but towards the end, everyone seemed to latch on to that as a reason to get me to try various induction methods - like the dreaded foley catheter.

The punchline of this whole story? My son was born at 7 pounds, 11 ounces. And he was 11 days overdue. Had he been born "on time" at 40 weeks, he would have likely been under 7 pounds. So all this hysteria about having a giant baby was for nothing. It was just one more way to stress me out about an already stressful situation. I've said this before and I'll say it again: the weight estimate via ultrasound is crap. It's almost always wrong, and you shouldn't let anyone make decisions about your healthcare based on that information. Maybe, if you combine that information with other fact-based data - like having gestational diabetes or something - then you could consider it. But otherwise? Don't even let them give you the number. It will make you worry unnecessarily about something you can't do anything about. (Ask me how I know.)

Spoiler alert: I had a c-section.

I know. Of all the people to have a c-section, it had to be the girl ranting about the ridiculous increase in c-sections and how many of them are performed unnecessarily. In my defense, I have also been saying that when they are necessary, they are extremely useful and I am grateful we have access to the medical technology. I just happened to be one of the few who actually needed one.

I'm still not sure how much detail I want to go into in a public forum, but the gist is that I was in active labor for 30 hours, 20 hours under direct midwife supervision. I couldn't eat, was getting dehydrated and was rapidly losing energy. My cervix never got much past 80% effaced and 5or 6 cm dilated, and the baby was not moving down. The my cervix started to re-harden. Un-efface, if you will. We made the decision to go to the hospital for an epidural.

Yep. I had an epidural. It was absolute magic. I was exhausted, and the contractions were agonizing. I was sobbing through each one and when I got dehydrated, dry sobbing. Then the back labor kicked in - the baby was still pretty actively moving around in there, and the vomiting started not long after that. Before we went to the hospital, I had the distinct thought, "I am in serious trouble, here." I was beginning to move from worried to terrified. When that anesthesiologist walked in with the epidural... I have never been more relieved to see anyone in my life. Eventually, the epidural wore off some on the right side and I had to have it increased. I was tipped over to the left to keep the baby's heart rate up and such and so the epidural was flowing away from the right side. I should mention that this epidural was crazy strong. I couldn't feel my legs. But I was so exhausted and in so much pain that I didn't care. I was just so glad to have some relief from the pain. And honestly, after 30 hours? I think I earned it. And I'm leaving out the more gory details about stretching membranes and how it was the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. Bar none. And I've had multiple piercings.

So, under the influence of an epidural and pitocin, I finally fully effaced and dilated, and pushed for and hour and a half. I didn't understand time-travel in relation to labor until then. Because it seemed like the blink of an eye. The baby's heart rate had been dropping and then took a pretty severe dip. This, in combination with the meconium in the amniotic fluid, and the fact that he still wasn't moving down into my pelvis despite pushing, made the doctor call it. Time for a c-section. I cried. A lot. But ultimately, I recognized that we had tried literally every other option. Time to move on.

Our Butterbean was born on February 28. He had the cord wrapped around his neck twice and his legs once. He couldn't move down into my pelvis because he was so tangled up. He also had to have his lungs suctioned to make sure he didn't aspirate any meconium. Aside from the doctor who delivered him and the pediatric nurse who worked on him immediately afterward, Allen was the first to hold him. Once I was all sewn up, they let me have skin to skin contact with him all the way back to the room. They never pushed formula, never took him out of our sight. They did take him to the nursery a few times for tests and pediatrician visits, but Allen stayed with him the whole time. All in all, we were pretty impressed and pleased with how they treated us. We didn't have to fight them on anything. It was a much better experience than I could have hoped for.

Recovering from a c-section sucks. I have no idea why anyone would choose this over a vaginal delivery. It's major abdominal surgery and it's tough to bounce back from. Plus, epidurals mean a groggy baby. And a c-section means no delayed cord clamping and no immediate contact with your baby. Having said all of that, I have absolutely no regrets about the c-section. It was absolutely the right decision and I am grateful to the doctors and nurses who delivered our baby guy into the world. If we didn't have access to the medical technology, we would have had a very poor outcome for both me and the baby.

A c-section was my very last choice in delivery options, and I still kind of can't believe I ended up having one. But I am positive that it was the right decision. And though I am in the throes of recovery and all that entails, I look at my beautiful, perfect, healthy son and I can't be anything but grateful.

Six in one, half dozen in the other.

I'm trying to decide where I fall. I am halfway between feeling really bullied and feeling persuaded by sound and logical reasoning. The short version of the days' appointment is that the baby is doing great (they didn't even leave me hooked up to the non-stress test for a full 20 minutes because he's so obviously fine in there), my cervix is posterior so they couldn't really tell if I was effaced or dilated (but the general opinion is no on both), and while the baby has dropped some (I went from measuring 42 cm to measuring 40 cm), he's still not that far down in my pelvis.

So here's the part where we make "a plan". See, I thought that everyone would just leave me alone until I hit 42 weeks and then we'd start talking about intervening. This is why I wanted midwives. I thought that doctors would be in my face about interventions starting at 38 weeks and that midwives would understand that babies come on their own schedule and would leave me be. This is not how it works. The midwives have been discussing what to do if I go late since my 38 week check up. And at my 40 week and 6 day check up, they started talking about more aggressive measures. I am now scheduled for the &^%#*@ AFI, which I strongly and vehemently protested. But the midwives (and the back up doctor) were absolutely adamant that I needed it on file. I won't go into another long rant about this ridiculous "diagnostic". I know you are as tired of hearing it as I am of saying it. I'll just say that I do not intend to let anyone make decisions about my healthcare based on this number, and I plan on doing my utmost to skew the test in my favor, including drinking as much water as I can possibly hold.

The next items we discussed were a foley catheter to mechanically open my cervix - I'm sure it's as pleasant as it sounds. Then castor oil, acupuncture, evening primrose oil, (ahem) "relations" with my husband, and finally cervadil (a chemical cervical ripener). I balked at all of these. Well, not all, but I'm trying to be delicate as this is a family blog. ;-)

I spent a lot of the past two days crying and feeling like the midwives and doctor were ruining my pregnancy. I was so upset yesterday, in fact, that I was ready to pack the car, drive to The Farm in Tennessee, and beg Ina May to deliver my baby. I have loved being pregnant and am in no huge hurry to expel this baby from my uterus. So having everyone up in my business about getting him out now is upsetting to me, to say the least. Plus, and this is the naked and bare truth of the matter: I am terrified of the medical machinery we have in place for mothers and babies. I am terrified of the hospital, terrified of the interventions, terrified of a c-section. And terrified that they will pull out "your baby could die" and either a) I'll buy into it and end up doing more harm to myself and my child, or b) not buy into it and end up doing more harm to myself and my child. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

So, after all of this upset, including a tear-filled conversation with one of the midwives about feeling bullied (my tears, not hers), I decided I needed an attitude adjustment. I considered calling my oldest friends' mother - a midwife who has delivered many babies - and asking for a second opinion. Then I realized I already knew what she would say. "Get the damn foley catheter! At least it keeps you out of the hospital and off the pitocin!" My "inner Joan" led me down the right path, as I knew she would. I have been obsessing over my fears about the medical machinery, and I've been spending a lot of time worried that I would be caught up and chewed through by that machinery. But what I needed to do was look at it from the other angle. The midwives are doing the lowest tech interventions that they possibly can in a bid to keep me out of the medical model. I should be willing to help them reach that goal, rather than fighting them every step of the way.

So while I am not thrilled to be doing any of this, I am feeling better about taking steps to keep this birth out of the hospital. I am waiting for a call back from the acupuncturist and hoping for an appointment sometime between Sunday and Tuesday. I'm going to try castor oil after that and then probably cervadil. I think I'll skip the foley catheter as I have some experience with catheters in reproductive organs (testing done last year for infertility) and it was excruciating. We're also going on walks and swims this weekend in an effort to move things along, as well as taking evening primrose oil. I think if I show the midwives that I am ready and willing to cooperate, I have a much better chance of putting my foot down about the induction timeline. You have to pick your battles, so I'm choosing mine to be that I get until Saturday morning before I go to the hospital.

The best outcome, of course, would be for me to go into labor this weekend or Monday morning and make all of this moot. Everyone keep your fingers crossed for that one!

Non-stress test.

I plan on drinking juice before I go in for my non-stress test today, just to make sure Butterbean is wiggley and active.

Allen thinks that's cheating. :-)

Just in case you were wondering.

http://haveyouhadthatbabyyet.com/

I have two (count 'em!) appointments tomorrow. One with the back-up physician and one with the midwives. Non-stress tests and consultations and plans for if I transfer to the hospital.

It's gonna be a long day. Sigh.

Target.

I went to Target today looking for shelves. As I was waiting in the long checkout line, the woman in front of me (with a full cart of stuff) asked if I wanted to go ahead of her (I only had 2 things to buy). I gratefully accepted and chatted with her and the woman in front of me (with an adorable redheaded baby girl) for a minute while we waited.

She asked when I was due.

"...Last Friday, actually", I said with a smile. She replied, "Oh my gosh! I'm so glad I let you go ahead of me!"

It made me laugh. She was also of the opinion that he'll come when he's ready - that babies know what they are doing and that I shouldn't worry overly much about being late.

It's been a good day.

Overdue.

My god, you guys. I really wish everyone would stop freaking out that I haven't delivered yet. It's making me seriously crazy. Only 3-5% of babies are born on their due dates, so why is everyone shocked that my kid is late? Most first babies are late!

Now, in addition to the midwives wanting an AFI and a non-stress test on Thursday (at 40 weeks, 6 days), I just got a call from the doctor who backs them up at the hospital wanting me to come in for a consultation on the same day. Why is everyone on my case about this?! He is only 3 days late! I was born 15 days late, my brother a week late, my sister-in-law had all her kids between 7 and 11 days late. Everyone needs to chill the fuck out. I'm not kidding. I'm starting to get really pissed about this. If you have to be relaxed and not stressed out for labor to start and/or progress, these people are doing a piss-poor job of helping me out in that respect.

This is verging on hysteria at this point and I'm sick of it. He'll come when he's ready. Everyone else can back off. Right. Now.

Still waiting.

Just in case you were curious, no baby yet. Our due date (yesterday) came and went without any fanfare. But realistically, only something like 3-5% of babies are actually born on their due date. We're enjoying the last moments of pregnancy, so I'm not fussed about wanting him to be born right this second.

These are the last moments where we will be one. Pretty soon I'll have to share him with the world. Right now it's just me and him - totally dependent on each other and on Allen to take care of us both. It's nice and while I am so excited to finally meet my squirmy little guy, I know I'll miss these moments of quiet contemplation. Where I know everything about him and yet he is a total mystery to me.

Privacy and digital dossiers.

This blog is public. No password required to read my rambling thoughts on whatever I choose to put here. I rarely post photos of myself (or anyone/thing else for that matter). I realize I'm walking a very strange and fine line. I want privacy while inviting public scrutiny. I'm flattering myself a bit, as I'm certainly not famous, or even "Internet famous". This blog doesn't have a huge following or readership, probably because I don't put up pictures, realistically speaking. But I've used both my and my husband's real names, and our rough geographical location.

So here's the thing. I'm due any day now. And I'm struggling a bit with how much to reveal on the blog and on other public forums, like Facebook, about the birth of our son. Allen and I both have large digital dossiers already - we have Facebook and Twitter accounts, email accounts, and have been put up on various websites like our grad school site. We both can be easily Googled, as it were. (In fact, an old friend from high school found me through a Google image search, before I ever had a Facebook account.) But our son is a blank slate. And quite honestly, I'd like to keep it that way as long as possible.

While I genuinely love "mommy" blogs, I spend a lot of time inwardly cringing at some of the stories parents are willing to put up about their children (potty training, for example), and while the majority of people (like me) love seeing adorable photos of their children online, there are also so many opportunities for abuse. The Internet has no police, after all. Again, I know this is a fine distinction. Parents have been telling embarrassing stories and showing photos of their kids for as long as there have been parents and kids, but now, on the Internet, there is a more or less permanent record. I'd really like my son to decide what is part of his permanent record, rather than making the choice for him and hoping he isn't mortified by it later. Or, God forbid, victimized by it. (That's my worst nightmare.)

I'm not really sure what's going to happen with this blog after he's born. Will I use his real name or keep calling him Butterbean? Will I discuss him at all? Will I share his birth story? On the one hand, his birth story is more my story than his, but it's such an intimate thing. And he is necessarily part of it. It's entirely conceivable that I'll give up the blog after he's born. It started as a way to keep friends and family updated about our family's growth - through adoption and/or childbirth - but now that it comes down to the wire, I find myself a bit squeamish about sharing.

So, long story short, I'm not sure what's going to happen from here on out. I can say this, though: I will most likely not be posting anything about his birth on Facebook. If you are my "friend" on Facebook and you'd like to know when he gets here, I'd be happy to email you privately, just give me a non-Facebook address. (I realize this is another fine-line type distinction, but it feels more private.) I obviously can't control what other people put online, and I accept that. My only request, as it were, is that people don't post photos of him online. But again, I know I can't control that, nor would I try.

Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing, or maybe I'll be so glad I went down this path early. Who knows? And I might change my mind. Whatever happens, thanks for coming on the journey with us this far.

Nope, not yet.

My Nana was really, really hoping I'd be in labor right now and have a Valentine's baby, but all signs point to not yet! He's still baking in there. And I'm not technically due until Friday so it was a long shot anyway. Sorry, Nana! I'll try harder next time? ;-)

I know I've posted links to this blog before, but you seriously need to go check out Melissa's blog, Dear Baby, today. Not only does she have adorable babies, but she dressed her baby boy, Arlo, up as Cupid today and I almost died from the cute! I'm not kidding. He is probably the cutest thing I have seen in a long time, and I see pictures of babies and kittens all the time in my Internet travels. Just sayin'. In fact, I'm having fantasies about my own little Cherub next year... Now to find baby sized angel wings...

My OB said what?!

I don't know if you guys have seen this website, My OB said what?!, but it's great. It catalogs all the ridiculous things that women's health care "professionals" say to pregnant women (and women in general). The sad thing is that these are actual things said to women. How are we supposed to winnow out the truth about pregnancy and childbirth when we are fed crap by supposed experts? I don't want to go on (another) rant, so I'll just leave it as an exercise for the reader to click the link and read some of the outrageous things women have been told by their doctors, and sadly, by midwives too.

And, as a special bonus, my experience with my OB is being featured! I feel slightly Internet famous! :-)

Caveat emptor: you will spend a lot of time outraged at what you read on this site. I have to read it in small doses to avoid outrage overload. You have been warned! (But honestly, you should get mad!)

I totally freaking did it!

Well, kind of... I don't want to jinx myself by being congratulatory too early, but I'm pretty proud of my accomplishment.

I am 39 weeks pregnant, and I have gained 37 pounds.

Okay, so it doesn't sound all that great typed out like that, but seriously guys, you have no idea how huge this is for me. I was already pretty overweight when I got pregnant. And I was terrified that I would be one of those women who gains 75 pounds during her pregnancy. I know women who have done that, and while most of them seemed to bounce back okay, I just didn't want to go there. I already have some significant non-baby weight to lose, and I didn't want to compound the problem. Not to mention possible complications and the general unpleasantness that comes from being super pregnant and obese.

My main goals were to gain weight at a healthy, reasonable pace and to gain a healthy, reasonable amount. Generally speaking, women should gain around 25-35 pounds during pregnancy (give or take). On the higher end if you start out underweight, on the lower end if you start out overweight. The midwives all said to gain around 30-35, and I am really proud of myself for gaining the "right" amount and not getting crazy out of control.

Food and I are very good friends, you see. And I have been eating everything in sight for the past nine months. But I tried really hard to be reasonable with portion sizes, lay off carbs and sugar and eat really varied and healthy foods. And I totally freaking did it, you guys! Woo!

(Well, the carbs get away from me sometimes...)

A love letter.

I do a fair bit of railing about the c-section rate in this country. And after yesterday's post about unnecessary (and useless) "diagnostics", I felt like I should clarify a thing or two...

My ranting about childbirth in the US is directed solely and only at the medical community and the establishment that takes advantage of women at a vulnerable time. I do not think that women who have c-sections (or epidurals or pitocin or whatever else) are weak or somehow "less" woman because of the way their babies came into the world. The goal for all should be a healthy, happy baby and Mom. I know many women who have had c-sections and other interventions, and I am so grateful those technologies were available to them. Maybe it wasn't the birth experience they wanted, but at the end of the day, regardless of how their babies got here, they are all thriving now.

What upsets me is not that we have these tools available. What upsets me is that many (if not most) OB/GYNs perpetuate falsehoods about childbirth and scare women into unnecessary interventions. Many women don't even know there is another way because the first person they see about their pregnancy, their OB, starts them down a path that leads to the hospital. How you choose to have your baby is a deeply personal and intimate choice, much like parenting itself. But how can any of us be expected to make informed decisions when we are given false information from the outset? What pisses me off the most is that doctors have the ultimate trump card: "Your baby could die." I can't tell you how many times I have heard that phrase, verbatim, during my pregnancy. Basically, any time I had the audacity to ask a question about some "established" medical procedure as it pertained to me or my baby. The message is clear: if you question the medical status quo, you are putting your life and your baby's life in danger. Guess what? That is an outright lie.

Look, there are risks to having babies. I get that. But if it was really so dangerous that every women needed to be in the hospital to survive, the human species would have died out long ago. And I realize that we have a much lower infant and maternal mortality rate than, say, 200 years ago, but we (the US) also has the worst rates of any first world country. What does that tell you about our model of care?

I got a bit off track... My point is: I'm not upset at women for being part of the system. I'm mad at the system. I wish everyone could have the birth experience they want, but the fact that we even have to discuss what kind of birth experience we want is part of the problem. And I know things go wrong. And in those cases, I am deeply grateful for the medical technologies we have in place. I just get mad when they are used routinely rather than as they are intended.

So to all women, Mamas, Mamas-to-be, any woman who has ever felt taken advantage of by the medical system, I leave you with this article: A Love Letter to C-Section Moms. There can be no change if we are fighting each other instead of fighting the real culprit. Much love to you all.

Overdue babies and the AFI.

Statistically speaking, first babies are generally late. Usually by about a week. Also, statistically speaking, the placenta stops functioning at full capacity around 42 weeks, so midwives and OBs all agree that babies should be born not much later than 42 weeks to decrease the risk of serious complications and stillbirths. Totally reasonable and supported by fact.

A common diagnostic in pregnancy is the amniotic fluid index (AFI). I've mentioned this before, but the AFI is crap. I have very strong feelings about the AFI, as I'm sure you can tell. At best, it's wildly inaccurate. The ultrasound tech is trying to estimate how much amniotic fluid is present in the womb. Basically, they are trying to measure fluid volume in an irregular space that is mostly taken up by a body of unknown mass when they can't see the entire space. It's ridiculous. I mostly feel like it's yet another tool designed to scare women into unnecessary medical interventions. And two different techs will give you two different numbers. You can even ask the same tech to re-measure and get a different number! So why on earth are we using this?

More importantly, why on earth are the midwives requesting that I (and anyone else who is overdue) get an AFI check at 41 weeks?? I intended to have one ultrasound during my pregnancy. One. The 20 week anatomy scan to find out gender and make sure there was nothing funky going on to disqualify me from an out-of-hospital birth. I have had three. Unless there is an extremely compelling reason to have a fourth, I am refusing the 41 week AFI. The only reason I could see doing it is if the midwives told me they would transfer me to the hospital for the birth without it. And even then I'd probably refuse because I won't be bullied into something I know is, at best, unhelpful.

After a discussion with one of the midwives today, it seems that the reason they request the 41 week AFI is mainly to placate the doctors they have as back up for their practice. They request this essentially meaningless diagnostic so that they can maintain relationships with doctors for emergency cases. I guess I understand that logic. I mean, midwives are balancing on a very precarious edge with the way hospitals and doctors and insurance companies have overtaken the healthcare system and model of care for childbirth. But given that no one could given me a compelling reason to get it done, I'm refusing. This is informed consent. They want me to have an AFI done for unnecessary and irrelevant reasons, I know what the AFI is capable of and what it isn't capable of, and I'm not overdue yet. So until such time as new information becomes available, I'm going to pass.

I wish more women felt empowered to take control of their healthcare...

Neglect and nesting.

So, hi! It's been a few weeks, huh? Now that I am super pregnant - or late-stage pregnant if you want to get technical - I am in full on nesting mode. Clean all the things! Sadly, the blog has taken a back seat to finishing up all the things that need to get finished before Butterbean's debut.

The good news? The nursery is finally clean! We still don't have a crib, but hey, it's at least starting to look like a nursery. (Plus, he doesn't really need a crib for a few months anyway, so we have time.) All the baby clothes are washed and put away (that kid has more clothes than me and Allen combined, by the way...), the diaper changing station is ready to go, the bassinet is set up, the rockers and bouncers and swings are set up, and the car seat is installed! I know! It's kind of amazing! I'm starting to feel like we're almost prepared if I go into labor now. We're even starting to stock up on labor food and make plans for visits and such.

The thing is, I'm feeling a little unsure about the end of the pregnancy. On the one hand, it will be nice to see my feet again (and have them not be swollen all the freaking time), but on the other hand, I love being pregnant. I'm a tad, dare I say, trepidatious about meeting our little guy. I know how to be pregnant. I know how to take care of myself and the Bean, how to eat healthy, how to exist in this swollen body. But I know absolutely nothing about being a parent. I have been pregnant since late last May, so in many ways, it feels like this is just my new state of being - that I will be like this forever, with the huge belly and the kicks and being hungry all the time. But the reality is that in a few short weeks - two of them, give or take - I will no longer be pregnant and Allen and I will be actual, factual parents. It's a little terrifying.

Also, I'm not really looking forward to labor.

I'm getting more excited to meet little guy every day, but I'm still feeling not-quite-ready. I keep thinking this will change. I've never heard a pregnant woman say at 40 weeks, "Gee, I wish I could stay pregnant a while longer." So I'm assuming I'll hit that stage, too. But I'm at 38.5 weeks right now and not quite there yet. Though, this is really just academic. If I went into labor right now, I'd be thrilled. It's not like I'd mourn that my pregnancy got cut short.

So, this post is a little rambley, but I needed to get my feet back in the blogging pool. Things will likely be sparse again once Butterbean arrives, but until then, I'll try to be a bit more regular with my posts!

This exchange actually happened today.

Me: We got lots of fun stuff in the mail today: diapers, wipes, diaper bag stuff and the hose for the toilet. Erm... I think I need to get out more if that's my definition of "fun stuff".


Allen: ...We can have toilet hose fights now.


Me: (laughing) Just like we always wanted!


Impending parenthood makes people weird.

Huh. That's kind of neat.

I just realized that I've been writing in this blog for over a year now. It's kind of amazing how different the posts are between then and now.

Also, pregnancy hormones... Listening to The Dixie Chicks "Cowboy Take me Away" totally made me cry. Luckily it was followed by "Earl Had to Die", which is a cure for tears. :-)

I'm gonna rant a little.

This has been a busy, busy week at Chez Parker. We've had a ton of fun things going on, a week long baby shower, for example! - that I'll talk about later. It's not all doom and gloom, but this has been on my mind this week, so I thought it was best to just get it off my chest so I could move on.

So...

I had my (hopefully) last ultrasound on Monday. The midwives recommended it as a final check to make sure the placenta was completely out of the way of the cervix (I had a low placenta placement), and also as a quick position check of the baby. I've mentioned before that I came a little, um, pre-padded, so it's been difficult to figure out how the baby is positioned. They were pretty sure he was head down, but might as well double check while we're as the ultrasound appointment.

I have mixed feelings about ultrasounds. The are amazing, but there aren't a lot of long term studies on their effects. My goal in this pregnancy was to avoid having a lot of ultrasounds and I ended up having three. Which is about two more than I intended, but I digress. Ultrasounds are also fairly misleading. They are good at diagnosing some things, but really bad at diagnosing others, and almost no distinction is made between the two in the medical community. For example, ultrasound weight estimates of a fetus are notoriously bad - off by up to two or three pounds in either direction - yet techs still routinely perform "weight estimates" and doctors use that information to make decisions about care during pregnancy. Everyone even acknowledges that weight estimates are bad! So why are we using this bad data to make crucial decisions about pregnancies?

We met with the ultrasound tech and she quickly confirmed that the baby is head down. Though, frankly, I could have told them that given the number of kicks I get in the upper left quadrant of my belly and the rock that's been sitting on my pubic bone and bladder for the past few weeks... She also confirmed that my cervix was long and closed (meaning we're still baking - no early dilation or labor) and that the placenta was not even visible on the ultrasound, meaning it's completely out of the way and in no danger of blocking the cervix. This is extremely important given that we are planning a birth outside a hospital. Having a placenta partially or fully covering the cervix means no exit point for the baby and necessitates a c-section.

So, good news all around.

But then the tech starts measuring the baby's head and femur (for size estimates), measuring the amniotic fluid levels and tells me that at 35 weeks gestation, the baby is measuring very large at over seven pounds. (At 35 weeks, he should be around five or five and a half pounds.) Since babies gain a half pound or more each week during the last month of pregnancy, this implies that I will have a 10+ pound baby in the end. Here's where the rant comes in.

I didn't ask her to do any of those things. That was not the information our midwives wanted and nowhere on my ultrasound order did it say "check weight and amniotic fluid levels". I came in with no symptoms that would warrant checking those things. I came in for a simple position and placenta placement check. That. Is. It. I'm fairly mad that she went out of her way to tell me, at 35 weeks pregnant, that I had a monster sized baby growing inside me. What am I supposed to do with that information?! I can't slow his growth. That would be dangerous to both of us. I have the healthiest diet of anyone I know, so I can cut out junk food because I don't eat it. So what am I supposed to do with the information? There are three choices:

1. Freak out about having to birth a huge baby and worry about it for the rest of the pregnancy and be terrified when I go into labor.
2. Bail on the homebirth plan and schedule a c-section because I'm afraid I'm growing a baby too big for my body to handle and it will be catastrophic if I try to birth the baby on my own.
Or 3. Ignore the tech, get mad that she is so ignorant and thoughtless as to give me such useless information and move on with my life knowing that those weight estimates are so uncertain as to be worthless information.

I'm choosing option number 3.

The second issue that upset me was the amniotic fluid measurement. First of all, we didn't ask for that. Second of all, this is another area where ultrasounds show their limitations. Amniotic fluid measurements are straight up voodoo, pure and simple. Any physicist (which I happen to be, thank you very much), or mathematician or engineer can tell you that estimating a fluid volume in an irregular space that is occupied by a body of unknown mass and dimensions is at best wildly inaccurate and at worst totally impossible. Particularly when you can't see the entire structure, which you can't in ultrasound. She thankfully didn't make any comments about my fluid levels, but partly because I told her I didn't believe her weight estimate because ultrasound was not an effective or accurate way to measure, and partly because Allen told her to not bother with all the additional stuff she was doing because we weren't interested in the information and didn't come in for that. He told her we wanted the ultrasound to be as short and non-invasive as possible. I'm not sure if she actually cut it short or if she just finished her routine without comment, but either way, I think we offended her a little bit. And you know what? I don't care. I mean, I know she was just doing her job, but the fact of the matter is that she (and other ultrasound techs like her) are part of the problem. They are part of the medical machinery that makes a 40% + c-section rate possible.

These little bits of "information", or really, "MISinformation" contribute to a model of care that is ultimately detrimental to women and babies. The further along I get and the more I see of how the medical community treats pregnant women and infants, the more I think this is fundamentally a human rights issue. There are countless women who are being forced into a model of care that has deleterious consequences on their health and the health of their babies, and because women are so vulnerable at this particular point in their lives, we feel (and sometimes are) powerless to stop the cycle of abuse that is happening. And I won't even get in to the money aspect. That's the shadowy spectre looming over this discussion that I haven't even touched yet...

Again, I'd like to point out that c-sections, ultrasounds and other medical technologies are amazing advances, and when used properly, have saved the lives of many, many women and babies. I know a few, myself, and am thankfully they had access to the medical advances we have in place today. My point is that these things are over-used, and not to our collective advantage. Using faulty and inaccurate data to diagnose and make decisions about medical care would be considered malpractice in any other field of medicine, so why are we allowing it during pregnancy and childbirth?

I don't have a good, succinct ending for this long post. These are questions I am struggling with every day. I'd like to help change the way women and doctors view care during pregnancy, but I am just one voice. And not the most eloquent one in the chorus. But it's clear that something has to change.

Nesting.

I'm starting to feel the nesting urge. I think it's technically a bit early - I still have over five weeks left in my pregnancy. So I think it's a combo of nesting and neat-freak-ness. I've been a little out of sorts about the house in the last few months. I feel like it's always a mess and I can never get on top of all the cleaning that needs to be done. When I was working full time, this was understandable, but when I quit my job, I felt like I should be able to at least keep the house clean. That's been partially true. The kitchen is messy but never destroyed anymore. The laundry is done and folded and put away, but we still seem to accumulate junk on flat surfaces and there are several big projects that need doing that are languishing. The whole house needs a good dusting, for example. The bathroom needs a good scrub - like with bleach and Comet and a toothbrush in the shower kind of scrub. The refrigerator needs a good clean out. The attic needs re-arranging, as do our closets and bookshelves.

See what I mean? There is a lot to do. And don't even get me started on the furniture we still need to get rid of and the other furniture we need to buy... And to top it all off, my baby shower is happening this weekend. At my house. So it has to be sparkling. (I know my friends don't care - but I care.)

I did have the realization that at eight and a half months pregnant, some things are out of my reach. I probably shouldn't be on all fours scrubbing the shower with harsh chemicals in a small enclosed space. I can't truck up and down our rickety attic stairs. If I pick a project, I can reasonably get it done in a day or two, but I need to give myself a break and not push so hard. Things that used to take me an hour now take four and leave me winded and needing a break every hour. Plus, pregnancy brain is a real thing! Sometimes I forget what I'm doing in the middle of doing it!

So, today: clean refrigerator and hall closet. Put shoes away. Take lots of breaks. I'd like to go to the gym, too, but I just don't have time. How did that happen?! (Well, I clearly don't prioritize it high enough, but still!)