Category Archives: Labor & Birth

The Year

My mom pointed out that I never told you which year I’d re-live.

I think it would be the year that I was pregnant. 2008.

I guess starting in January.  I loved being pregnant.  Then, later, I loved having my brand-new expanded family.  Though to do it again, I’d have taken another week off before school ended.  And I’d have seen a few movies while I was home before I gave birth.  I also probably would not re-do going on vacation with a six-week-old.  Other than that, it was a grand year.  I loved giving birth.  I loved being home with my baby.  I loved it all.  (I realize that I would not enjoy the anxiety and uncertainty part of being pregnant again, but I would do it.)

Those of you who commented thought I’d choose this past year.  And it has been a nice one.  But once your second child starts moving of his or her own accord, as Trucker did at 10 months, all bets are off.  It has literally been a blur of running around pulling dangerous things out of his mouth or taking him down from the dangerous place he has climbed to, all while trying to follow the plot line of a four-year-old’s stories, which in itself is a minor feat.  So though this year has been fun, it has been exhausting.  I don’t really need to do it again.

Which year would you live over?

BTW, my good friend, Nethermede has started her own blog.  She is an excellent person, as well as a good writer.  You may want to check it out.

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Filed under blogitty blog blog, Labor & Birth, Trucker

If I Could Live One Year Over…

On New Year’s Day (Happy New Year, my peeps!) I was chowing down on some serious black-eyed peas with some seriously wonderful people.  My dear dear friend and cook of said BEPs, Nethermede, asked this question of her pork-imbibing and vegetarian guests: “If you had to choose between waking up tomorrow and completely skipping the year 2010, or going back and having to relive one of the past ten years, what would you do?  And if you chose to relive, which year would it be?”  Having two small and adorable children whose lives I would not like to miss even a day of, I chose to relive.  But which year?  Hmmm.

I need to do one of those decade run-downs just to be sure I made the right choice.  This is really more for me than for you, but read on, dear reader.  And see if you can guess which year I chose off the top of my head.

2000  All I remember is that this was my first year teaching.  I’d been with my honey for one year.  I was in grad school at night.  The day I spent pretty much in tears much of the time.  My weekends were spent lesson planning.  I’m hoping most of those former first graders figured out how to read.  I certainly didn’t do much to help them.  The poor dears.

2001 I moved up to teaching second grade.  I was feeling very confident that first week.  On the fourth day of school, the twin towers fell.  It was the day I became an adult.  I spent the afternoon sitting with other teachers hunched over a radio, as the children innocently danced to “Take Me Out the the Ball Game.”  We waited, smelling the cloud of heavy smoke that blew straight to Brooklyn, we waited to see whose parents would not show up to get their kids.

2002 Umm. Err.  Can I maybe remember one thing that happened in 2002? Ah!  I finished my masters degree in education.  And I think I may have foolishly resolved to try to get pregnant when I turned 33.  Hah.  So funny.  Hooo.  My belly hurts from the laughter.

2003 I think my honey started to try to get pregnant.  I won’t say much about this, since she does not like me to blog about her.  I will say only that we spent way too much time and money on our donor choice.  Waaay too much.

2004 My honey tries to get pregnant.  We give up on the known donor, shipping fresh sperm from wherever he was at the time in his crazy academic job search, to the much more reliable, yet far more expensive sperm bank.

We bought our apartment!  Our first home!  That was huge.

2005 New Year’s Day, we found out that my honey was pregnant.  On the last try we did at home.  The day that worked was either on the first or third night in our new home. I was beginning to think it was my fault, somehow, that she wasn’t getting pregnant.  But she did.  And she immediately got very very tired.  This was my year of adjusting to being a non-gestational parent.  I took close notes on what I would or would not want to do in my own pregnancy.  I did my best to support her. I tried to cook her healthy food and ended up bringing her Wendy’s hamburgers because it was all she could hold down.  I was extremely happy and a little jealous.  On August 16, I became a mother.  Three weeks earlier than we expected.  By c-section.  And he was so little and so good and so very very cute.  My little sack of sugar.  My Cakie boy.  The rest of that year was a blur.  Lots of diapers and strange attempts at helping the Boobah sleep.

2006 My little sack of sugar’s first year.  I had been dying to try to get pregnant.  Now all I was trying to do was keep my eyes open.  I decided to wait until a few months after he turned one to start TTC, so the baby would be born around the time he turned two. [Chuckle.]  I honestly don’t remember exactly when I started trying.  But mind you, I’d been charting my temperature since my honey first started TTC.  Yeah, for reals.

2007 This was the real TTC year.  I did TTC for a year and a half.  But this was the year of desperation. This was the year in which many of the weeks were spent waiting.  This was the year I began to blog (hi, y’all!)  This was the year I gave up on trying at home and gave up on limiting my attempts to only one year.  This was the year in which I almost gave up.  And it was the year I found out it had finally worked.  I guess you can read all about it on this here blog.  On Halloween, we saw a ghost on the pregnancy test.  Trucker decided to finally show up. I was pregnant!  And I was a little more happy to be done with trying than I was to be having a baby.  It is true.  I admit it.

2008 The year of my pregnancy.  I was all glowy and happy.  I looked fabulous.  I felt great.  (Though I couldn’t eat candy for much of the year, which is just not me, I tell you.) People were lifting things for me and opening doors for me.  I didn’t have to TTC anymore.  I had lots to blog about.  I only had one child.  Until, July 11, that is.  On that day, my due date, Trucker showed up.  My water broke right after my mom told him via the phone to my belly to be born.  And again, the rest of the year is a blur.

2009  I have two kids.  I don’t have much to blog about.  I went back to work.  Though I didn’t want to do it, I’m so glad I did.  I started teaching third grade in September and I love it.  That’s all, folks.

So which year did I choose?  Can you guess?

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Filed under blogitty blog blog, IUI, Labor & Birth, my second son, Post partum, TTC

Last Year Today

I blogged twice.

I lost my mucus plug.

My honey had put me on her own honey-imposed bed rest. Because my feet had turned into sausages the night before.

The day before I had written a draft of how I’d hoped my birth would go.

All week, as I’ve been running around planning Trucker’s first birthday party, I’ve also been thinking: last year today I...  Because I will never let go of this week last year.  And you guys were sitting here in my dining nook with me as I blogged away with my belly tight and my feet up on a chair, wondering how it would all play out.

Now I have a hefty little man walking — yes, WALKING (sometimes running) — around my house.  I have sons — brothers.  Two boys that we made and this relationship they are creating on their own.  I do not have two blog posts in one day.  I’m too busy running back to the store to exchange some of the board books I bought as party favors because I realized that most of the kids coming are actually siblings, including two or three sets of twins, and they don’t need several copies of the same book in the house. (Deep, I know.) And wondering if it is ok to make the cupcakes two days ahead of time and frost them that morning.  Or will they be stale?  I don’t think you guys necessarily need to read about the brainless ramblings of what is essentially a housewife.   Not that all housewive’s ramblings are brainless.  Just mine.  See?

I keep checking my blog, thinking there will be more comments.  But I haven’t written any more posts.  I have some in my head.  I’ll try to get them out to you.  Because I love my invisible friends.  Muuuwah!

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Filed under Labor & Birth, my hon, my second son, Third Trimester!?!, Trucker

Post Post Post Partum Post

Trucker is almost a year old.

Almost a year ago, I pushed a nine pound, three ounce baby out of my body.  Now, if you are pregnant right now, you may want to click away.

I tore, but it wasn’t bad. Not as bad as it can be.  But a year later I’m still recovering.  I want to know if this is unusual.  The tear healed in a few weeks.  My muscles, my pelvic floor?  Not so much.  I’m still feeling all loosey goosey down there.  I still feel somtimes like parts of me are going to fall out.  Do I do enough kegels?  No.  But I feel like when you tear a muscle, it heals fairly quickly.  What’s up with my super-hero pelvic floor?  Why so wimpy?

In other areas, My hair is freaking out.  About two months post-partum my hair started to fall out.  It fell out for about two more months.  I knew it would fall out, but for two months?  Now it is growing back.  It is more curly than it was pre-Trucker.  And I have these frizzy halo hairs around my hairline that make my hair look bad in a pony tail.  A mother of two can’t afford to have her hair look bad in a pony tail.  I could cut it short in a dykey little pixie like I had in my early twenties.  But have I mentioned the color?  Bright, fire red?  It is very pretty long.  I’m also a little afraid that if it chooses to be more curly,  perhaps I might look like I’ve been hanging out with Daddy Warbucks if I cut it short.  Now right near the temples, it is a different color.  My friends have been going gray for a long time.  I always wondered when it would hapen to me.  I’ve had days at work as a teacher when I was sure I’d see a shock of white hair the next time I saw my reflection.  My hair is not going grey, however.  It is going gold.  I’m gold around the temples.  I guess it goes better with red than grey.

My body elsewhere is a little weird, too.  From nursing I’ve lost lots of weight.  Only in my legs.  If they were long enough, I could wear a size six pant.  Before I gave birth, I wore ten or twelve.  My gut, on the other hand?  It is bigger than usual.  Which is to be expected.  But I can’t figure out when to exercise.  Well, now that school is out, I’ll be able to form and start a plan, but once it resumes, I’m not sure how I’ll squeeze it in.  But the nursing is happening less and less often. Soon the nugget will be able to drink cow’s milk and I’ll be probably cutting out the afternoon nurse.  I need to get cracking with the exercise.  I want to be healthy.

Nursing Trucker these days is a full contact sport.  He’s very big and active.  He likes to climb around on me while he nurses.  Sometimes he tries to walk away with me in his mouth.  And now that he has his teeth (4!) he tries to bite me.  I’m trying to do what the nursing book says and take him off before he bites and end the feed.  But I don’t think he’s making the connection that the feed ends because of the bite.  I think he just thinks biting my nipp1e is hilarious.  Ha ha.  I’m laughing so hard that it is not apparent to the naked eye.

That’s it.  Besides the lovely spider veins that have appeared near my knees, I have nothing more post post post partum to report.  Who knows how much of it is from giving birth and how much is from being almost 38?  Not I.

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Filed under b00b food, Labor & Birth, my second son, Post partum, teaching, working motherhood

The Book… A Little Phoenixy Thing

I am getting back to the book.

I just had to stop to share with you all that I think it is a little magic how writing to you beautiful strangers about writing or not writing the book makes me write the book.  First, I wanted to write the book.  So I thought I’d just blog about writing it.  The next thing I knew, I was writing the book.  Then, after giving birth, I wasn’t writing it.  So I blogged about not writing it.  That was just what I needed to get back to work.

I really am getting back to work.  Which is why though I really really want to respond to the lovely and flattering post the grrrls over at firsttimesecondtime wrote, I am not going to do so right at this very moment.

I did just want to take a little break to tell you how funny this is.  I went back into my emails on my blog email to try to make sense of the work I’ve already done and to better organize my interviews.  I found SO MANY emails and interviews I was doing on the day before and of my birth.  In one of them, I actually said, “I’ll try to get you those questions today (if I don’t give birth.)”  And I did.  My water broke three hours after I sent that email.  And I never did send that woman the questions.  Not until today.  Just nine little months later.  Maybe I needed another full gestation period to make room for the book.  Even though who, Adrienne Rich or somebody,  says, “A book is not a baby is not a book.”

I need to get back to my interview organizing and apologizing to folks for dropping off the face of the earth.  But I do want to invite any and/or all of you to be interviewed.  My process is slightly lame (by my own standards.)  I do email interviews.  I found trying to get a mom of a toddler on the phone for an hour, when I am also the mom of a toddler, is nearly impossible.  So I started sending the questions via email.  It really doesn’t take much time and can be done at your leisure.  Let me know!  I promise not to give birth in the middle of any more interviews.  Ever.

Love,

ohm

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Filed under Labor & Birth, My Book

We Interrupt This Stroller Review…

…to bring the breaking news that my lurker in Florida gave birth yesterday to a little baby girl. Yay!  Welcome baby D.

AND to just state that my biggest impression from tonight’s presidential debate is that I cannot believe these “undecided” voters could not bring themselves to have a latte or down a Re.d Bull before they went on national TV in front of two men, one of whom will be the next president of the US, and basically fell asleep. It’s called caffeine, people. I swear.  One woman in the front row was doing the subway nod.  One older guy in the middle was full-on alseep.  This election is catering to nimrods.  God help us.

You saw it, right?  Right, my friends?

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Filed under Labor & Birth, nothing at all

On Having Your Last Child

Unless we win the lottery, Trucker is our last baby.  At least according to my honey.

It is weird to look at your last baby and know it is your last baby.  As soon as his first tooth comes in, we will have seen his last toothless grin — barring any unforseen mouth trauma or ice hockey careers.

I’m still getting over my only birth being my last one.  Even though it was near perfect, there are so many things I’d like to do differently.  I want to have a home birth.  I want to have a third adult with me from the get-go.  Things like that.

Back to my last baby.  I thought I’d tried to savor every baby moment when Cakie was a wee one.  This is a little crazy.  When Trucker turned one month old, I thought, “I’ll never have a newborn less-than-one-month-old lump again!”

Now that we finally set up Trucker’s crib in Cakie’s room, I think, “I’ll never have a newborn in the co-sleeper again.”  Which is totally not true, since Truck starts the night in Cakie’s room and spends the rest of the night in the co-sleeper.  But still.

When he grows out of an article of clothing, I can only think… well, you know.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m happy to get these huge bins of clothes out of my closets.  And I’m happy that my boy is growing like a weed.

I’m just trying to be in the moment.  I need to try to not be nostalgic for the moments that just happened, lest I miss the one that’s happening now.  Like, I’m writing my blog with a sleeping nine-week-old strapped to my belly.  My back hurts a bit from his fifteen pound heft. His head is on my shoulder and he’s making those little sleep sucking motions with his lips and kind of frowning in-between.  His belly is warm on my belly. His hair is sticking up a little in the back.  We can feel each other breathe.

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Filed under family, Labor & Birth, my second son