The Weekly Slug: 34 weeks, almost 35, but who's counting anymore because we're going to have a baby in not more than 11 days.

I thought I'd give you guys some fun stuff to savor since events have been a bit on the heavy side around here.

First, a picture that my husband took of me right before I was taken to triage at labor and delivery last Wednesday night.


I look terrific, don't I? Like it's really not 11 o'clock at night and that I'm contemplating a delivery at 34 weeks? Like I'm not sitting there having contraction after contraction thinking, 'hm, these are starting to hurt a bit'? You guys are too kind. Thank you for reassuring me that I look just fine.

That trip to the hospital did have one good effect. It woke us up to the reality that we were completely unprepared for a baby to come into the house. Or even into our lives. Here's a picture of every first-time dad's nightmare:


That car seat wasn't even out of the box last Wednesday night, much less in the car when we left for the hospital. I guess we figured that if the girl was born at 34 weeks, it was highly unlikely she'd leave the hospital right away with us. Still, the stroller has no wheels and we still really have no idea how to put the car seat in the car safely. I am POSITIVE that when Grace was a baby I was one of those 4 out of 5 people who had the car seat installed incorrectly. Positive.

I still don't have a bag packed for the hospital. For myself or for the Slug. Oh my.

One good thing about Papai going to Brazil just a few weeks before his Slug's birth is that he brought back gifts and gifts and gifts and, oh, did I mention? Some gifts. Here is one of my favorites.


This is from one of my sisters-in-law. It is one bottle of shampoo and one bottle of lotion specially formulated for both mommy and baby. They both smell amazing. She sells products from the entire line of this company. It is like a woman's dream-come-true to have someone in the family constantly supplying green-friendly beauty and health products. She is fabulous.

Even better as a dream-come-true is that I got these babies all prettied up this afternoon, while also having my feet scrubbed and massaged and pampered:


I can't keep my toes from looking like little sausages skewered onto the end of a pot roast, but I can at least get them to be cute. And feel cute. I cannot tell you how amazing of a treat this was. I haven't been able to reach my feet for weeks now, consequently my podiatric hygiene and care has been less than acceptable. Given that I only wear flip-flops now, it was grossing me out a lot that everyone could see them. So I got myself to the mall, went to one of those nail-only places, made good use of the back massager in the treatment chair and relaxed for about an hour. At the very least, by the time this picture was taken my ankle bones were showing a bit. That's a distinct improvement over their normal appearance of late.

And now for my confessions of guilty pleasures. The entire bottom drawers of my nightstand is filled with my stash. Witness it in all its decadent glory:


I wish I could tell you that this is just a symptom of pregnancy but alas, I am a big wimp when it comes to resisting sweets. So there you go. The caramels were just purchased last night on a distinct pregnancy craving. The juicy fruit is going with us to the hospital. When I get around to packing a bag. Assuming that is before the Slug is actually born.

Enough for now about the Slug. I've been neglecting discussion of Grace. Also of The Cat. They will get some good dedicated posts soon. Because they are both pretty awesome.

Where were we? Ah yes, I remember.

My husband was gone to Brazil from the 12-21st. If you'll recall, before leaving he told his (soon-to-be-born) daughter just not to try any funny business until he got back on the 21st. She complied perfectly. However, yesterday in the evening of the 22nd, a little over 24 hours after he got back...

I started having contractions that wouldn't stop. Every 3 minutes. By the time I called triage at the hospital, they said 'Come in NOW.' And that we did.

We came home this morning at 3 or 4 am after quite an adventure which included among other things: one botched IV that left a huge bruise on my right hand, one good breathing treatment due to a sudden onset of asthma and a baby girl still in utero who decided those few hours in the hospital were the moments to REALLY practice her soccer skills (what, with dad back from Brazil and all). Finally the contractions lessened in frequency and there seemed to be no other immediate health risks to attend to. During the whole time I just kept thinking, 'I can't be having this baby now. I mean, look at my husband....'

...who was barely able to keep his eyes open. His past week consisted of crazy travel itineraries, the death of his father, working all the funeral arrangements out with some help from our newly adult nephew, mourning, and trying to make sure everything was ok here in the US with me. When we got to the hospital last night, he phoned his sister from the triage room because he hadn't even gotten the opportunity yet to call her and tell her he had arrived home safely. It had been a long week, what with his father passing away and all....

Yesterday, we went to mass in the evening in honor of my father-in-law. Seven day mass. It's a cultural tradition in Brazil -- have the funeral the day after the death, mourn for a week and go to mass seven days later. When we arrived home from mass, me still wearing my black, the contractions kicked into overdrive. And thus we found ourselves at the hospital all night. However, before all this ensued...

While my husband was gone, my bestest best friend came in town for a week. She was great. She took care of everything. It was great to see her and visit. I was grateful for her to be here. She even indulged me in a haircut and coloring, a photography session done by her at my house and many lovely dinners. I indulged her in one home-baked cherry pie. Which reminds me...

A couple weeks ago I promised a post on the paucity of cherry crops in Michigan, the state where the annual National Cherry Festival takes place. That post never came. Ah, well, what am I going to do? I think I'm going to make another pie this weekend, so if you're lucky I'll remember to take pictures and post them here. But until then...

Pics of a very pregnant lady with a fabulous new hairdo:



34 weeks yesterday. Still with baby inside. Just stay put, little girl, ok?

The Weekly Slug: 32 weeks, or T minus 4 weeks and counting

Here we go.

My husband is leaving for Brazil on Sunday. He is quite insistent that the only thing his daughter needs to do is stay put. Just be happy. Don't try any funny business and all will be fine. I assured him nothing will happen until he's back on the 21st. I'm not dilated, my cervix is high, my blood pressure is fine, everything looks typical for a woman at my stage of pregnancy NOT ready to go into preterm labor. So just don't worry. The only thing he'll miss is my appointment next week with the obstetrician who will be performing my cesarean. We'll be discussing our hopes and dreams for this birth. Or rather, I'll be discussing my husband's and my hopes and dreams on behalf of the two of us.

Last night we took a tour of the hospital maternity ward where our girl will be delivered. That was a little surreal. We had been there before about a month ago for monitoring because my contractions were not happy about calming down. At the time I thought, I'm never coming back here to this triage unit. Since I wasn't in need of actual care last night, we got the tour this time. All the other couples seemed happy and wanted to know about birth plans and such. Our hospital prefers that natural birth be the default and that women triage, labor, deliver and recover in the same room. Baby stays with Mom always. Baby never leaves Mom. I was wishing I could do birth like that at least once. When Grace was born, I labored in a labor room, delivered in a delivery room (read: OR), recovered in a recovery room, and she was whisked away immediately after birth for a couple hours to sob in misery in a nursery while being poked and prodded by latex fingers and lay in a bassinet alone.

On the tour last night, I just asked quietly if they could point out the location of the ORs to us. I just didn't want to disrupt the normal flow of discussion among other expectant parents in the tour about natural childbirth and all.

Speaking of Grace's birth, is it me or has this recession resulted in a severe cutback on the amount of freebies handed out at hospitals and mailed to expectant moms? When I was pregnant with Grace, we raked in the goods. I remember thinking a few weeks before she was born that I could probably go a month without having to go to the store for any supplies. I got a case of formula ready made, two more huge containers of formula powder (mind you, I nursed her, so I didn't even need the stuff), shampoo, lotion, baby powder, baby oil, diaper cream, silverware, OTC medicine samples, diaper bags, samples diaper wipes in cute little containers that fit perfectly in the diaper bag, books, videos, you name it. I was stocked. But for this pregnancy? Nada, nothing, zip, zilch. I even intentionally put in one of our email addresses into one of those "free stuff for your baby" sites that get advertised all over the pregnancy and baby websites? Then I entered our home address, our home phone, selected free magazines, and on and on. All I got for it was spam in my inbox. What is up? What did I miss? How do you get the freebies these days? Do they still exist?

I did something a little unexpected this week. I talked to a photographer about doing a maternity session. She has this awesome website and people give her rave reviews. I just feel like time is slipping away from us and I want to remember this pregnancy for being something good. My husband has told me over and over that he loves to see me pregnant, that I look healthy and beautiful. It's good to hear. So one week before delivery, in the evening of July 31st, me and my husband and Grace will go have a photography session together. We've never (and I mean NEVER) done this before. Had a photography session together, that is. The photographer promises she won't make Grace feel goofy and make her do things that are sappy and insincere just because her mother is pregnant. She even said that she would take a couple of head shots of Grace so she'd have a few decent pictures of herself instead of settling for her school pictures this year. All in all, I'm looking forward to it.

My bestest best friend is coming in town on Sunday, arriving just after my husband takes off for Brazil. She promises him she will take care of me.

I think that covers all the news that is the slug this week. Things are getting hectic and more immediate. I might move to the bi-weekly slug or something like that if things speed up more. Then again...that might be overkill ;-)

A bit melancholy

I'll tell you friends, it's been a long week. A lot of things that have gone on are things that would normally have sent me spinning and carping, but right now these are causing me just to have a short temper with people and write them off, tell them to grow up and get a real problem.

My father-in-law is dying.

We've spent the last 2-3 days trying to get a reasonably priced fare between Michigan and Brazil for my husband, while both of us deal with the oscillating emotions of whether he should go while I'm this close to delivery. But the truth is, if he doesn't go, he'll miss it all, whatever "it" is, that is. Holding his father's hand while he's doped up on morphine and comatose, holding a sister while she cries, getting to attend a funeral, who knows.

And so it is that I find myself before 6a in the morning, unable to sleep any longer despite the first persistent migraine in two months accompanied by severe pelvic pain and one reluctant dose of vicodin, watching the sun creep slowly into the horizon.

I'm realizing that dealing with all this is another way in which I have discovered how much I love my husband.

I want my daughter, the one that's not born yet, to at least be heard by her grandfather, even if that's only over the phone. But I'm afraid it's far too late for that.

The fender bender that happened to our car a couple weeks ago and the ensuing repairs that are taking over a week, that seems unimportant. That I repeated that fender bender almost perfectly with the other car two days ago also seemed like a dream, like it was life passing before me. Everything seems trite and banal. My sister's jealousy over my pregnancy, my ex-mother-in-law dissing me to Grace day by day, the cat suddenly staging a protest over using her litter box and using the carpet in the den instead...all this was really important a week ago. Today? Not so much so.

I'm wondering if being in the midst of clinical depression is making me more melancholy about the whole circumstance. But maybe it's also allowing me to be more in touch with my feelings and be more sensitive. Maybe it's making it possible for me to feel my emotions more accurately than if I was busily distracting myself with the normal overstimulation and hyperactivity I regularly feel.

We saw Grace at a swim meet yesterday afternoon. It was the first time she'd seen my husband since she learned of his father being ill. When she was done with her first event, she came to us and gave him a hug. It's the first time she's ever done this spontaneously, without someone telling her she should (like on Christmas after receiving a gift or sometime like that). The gesture was not unnoticed.

I suppose life is like this. You live, you experience, you feel, you learn. Somewhere along the way you realize, this is what living is. I guess right now I'm wishing that living didn't include the dying part, the dying of people around you and of yourself as well.

Could you give me your opinion?

To any and all readers who find themselves at this, my personal blog:

I am having some time in my life to introspect lately. I know, you're thinking, 'Heather, isn't that all you do given how this blog reads?' Well, not exactly. I mean, sure, I try to think through things and make sense of them in a way that makes the facts around me and my emotions come together. But I don't always feel like I get to an 'a-ha' moment. You know, like when you see things in a way that you never saw before?

I rant about God a lot. I also rant about politics sometimes. And, as the title of my blog reveals quite transparently, I ruminate over my childhood. I got some issues with my self esteem. And now, NOW, I find myself able to reflect on this stuff more. It's coming together in ways I didn't see before.

Here's the controversial part I find myself unsure how to deal with, the part that I need your input on. I could easily write days and days of posts on what is on my mind re: self-actualization. But (and it's a big 'but'), that would require me to dish out some details about people I love. No it's not my husband or my daughter, but it is other people who really matter. Several of my bloggy friends out there (hi, bloggy friends!) have recently had the experience of having someone find their personal blog and go a little ballistic on them. I'd like for that not to happen. Still, something inside of me is tempted to dish out all this stuff because I think it would help me reason through all of it.

Can you give me you advice, and can you vote in my poll on the right, about whether or not you think I should delve into these issues and risk some emotional outbursts should the relevant parties ever find and read this blog?

Thank you, all.

The Weekly Slug: 31 weeks

We have a date, a scheduled date for cesarean, that is. August 7th. If you're suddenly finding yourself doing the math, let me save you the time: 36 weeks, 2 days. We'll do a couple shots of steroids 24 hours before delivery and one last sonogram to get an idea of how big she'll be. The obstetrician who's doing the surgery feels confident that all will go well, given her development thus far.

Today I am officially 31 weeks pregnant. There are good days and there are bad days. Really, I'm just looking forward to seeing my baby and not being pregnant anymore. I know, once the baby is born I will have her to take care of and I won't feel so great because I'll be recovering from a surgery. But the amount of negative effects to my body that I either can't treat well because I'm pregnant or that are induced because I'm pregnant is getting a little much.

Last night I was out shopping with my husband. I was pushing the shopping cart and I felt tired. When we stopped in an aisle, I squatted down and took the weight off my legs, while holding on the handle of the cart. It felt so good. I thought, I wonder if I could just push this girl out right here. I'd been having hard contractions all day, so the idea didn't seem too far fetched...

I got my bathing suit, and wow, what a big difference that makes! It makes me feel beautiful. Better than that, I never imagined how good it would feel to get in the pool. I feel completely weightless and I can actually move around. I can even swim a lap or two in shallow water. It feels so incredible to exercise my arms and legs without feeling heavy or getting sweaty! I love it!

I went to a summer swim meet with Grace on Saturday. After the meet, we were visiting with other families from the community team. A woman there asked me when I was due. I told her in August and that we had our feet in both worlds with a high schooler and a soon-to-be-newborn. Her son who was with her and on the swim team was 8. Turns out, her children span in age from 4 to 28. Her oldest grandchild is older than her youngest child. I suddenly felt normal, like my life wasn't so extraordinary. Beyond that, the meet is filled with families with young kids. I realized that I was enjoying myself and that I fit in with the parents of little kids, even more with my teenage girl there with me.

I think up until now I've been trying to figure out how to be two people at once. Like, how do I be the doting, nurturing mom of a baby while also being the hip, mature mom of a teenager? You'd think I'd have figured out sooner that I can be both at once. But really, it wasn't until Saturday that I realized that being exactly who I am is what both of my daughters need.

Hey, anyone out there use cloth diapers recently and have advice for me? Because I could use some first-hand help and coaching.